The Breeze Passes Without Trace

The breeze sings, I promised you, laugh and talk about the situation and let it flow. We know each other and remember each other, and we are envious of the wild geese that lead us outside the barrier. The most difficult situation is when bitter people plot against the undercurrent. Finally separated, I leisurely looked at the mountains and rivers and chanted to myself. Looking back together, wherever the wind passed by, there was no trace left. An overdressed dynasty, a doomed tragedy? [Laugh at the harem turmoil, quietly talk to fellow travellers, and taste the various flavors of life]