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I cried while appreciating the choreography of "". The silver bell is crisp, and the old friend returns. One bowed to the heaven and the earth, the other bowed to the high hall, the husband and wife bowed to each other... Still immersed in the beautiful stories. At the end of the song, the silver bells rise again, and I wake up from a dream as soon as I take a pillow on Sophora japonica, everything is illusion, everything is just a memory.