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Singing loudly with the sword, cutting down three thousand misty clouds; time is like wine, cutting off the loneliness of the sea. The falling snow is flying, and the sky is white. I wander around a lot, and I am covered in dust. This place was covered with moss and white snow in the past. Light ink and strong fragrance, pale blue clouds rolling up; light rain falling, drifting for half a lifetime. The flowers bloom at one thought, and fall at the other. When I look back, I only see red flowers flying all over the sky...

Unknown boy, please fight the gods! He drew his sword and stood on horseback, staining his white robe with blood, just to keep his family, relatives and friends safe and happy, and to guard his homeland and rivers beside the Great Wall. Time is like a knife, black hair is stained by frost, so what's the problem? Have you ever remembered that a young man fought with his sword to the end of the world, but his passion and sincerity paid off in the end?