The mist is thick, the clouds are dark, and the day is long, and the auspicious brain sells the golden beast. It's the Double Ninth Festival and the Double Ninth Festival. Jade pillows and gauze kitchens make it cool in the middle of the night. After dusk when I drink wine in Dongli, there is a faint fragrance filling my sleeves. There is no way to lose one's soul. The west wind blows behind the curtain, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.