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自从师傅捡到我之后
This Is Tom
Do you know the poet Li Xun? That is my junior brother. Unfortunately, he died young and could not meet you, but you must know that he wrote a poem: Autumn is coming Tongfeng frightens the brave men and makes them suffer; the lamps fade and the weft cries of cold weather. Whoever reads the Qing Jian compiled book will not send flowers, insects, powdery beetles, etc. My thoughts should be straight tonight, the cold rain and fragrant soul hang on the scholar. The ghosts in autumn graves sing Bao family poems, hating the blue of the earth for thousands of years.
Do you know the poet Li Xun? That is my junior brother. Unfortunately, he died young and could not meet you, but you must know that he wrote a poem: Autumn is coming Tongfeng frightens the brave men and makes them suffer; the lamps fade and the weft cries of cold weather. Whoever reads the Qing Jian compiled book will not send flowers, insects, powdery beetles, etc. My thoughts should be straight tonight, the cold rain and fragrant soul hang on the scholar. The ghosts in autumn graves sing Bao family poems, hating the blue of the earth for thousands of years.