In the seventeenth year of Jiaqing, the emperor passed away and never established another queen.
Thousands of years later, Jialan Temple collapsed. Someone passed by and found a poem written on a certain wall.
The wind is shaking the green grass and the rain is falling, but who is there waiting for you?
Three springs pass by the river bank, and dusk sings on the terrace.
The time is dark, the fireworks are easy to get cold, and the old dreams are long-lasting.
Indulging in the willow color of the year, infatuation took root.
Conception: