Hu Xuanji

"The old road of the west wind, listen to the old dream, here is the sound of Tianzhu orchestra, and from a distance, you can see the golden sand dancing in the waves." The Hu Xuan Nu waved her turquoise neon strips of cloth, spun a thousand turns and leaped into the air to dance. Her footbells rang, and the golden sand fell. The beauty twisted her dance skirt, thinking of the old friend who used to hold the colorful pen. Will he still hear the whirling dance in the past?