The Sword Is Gone

This world is a long one. It's just a bowl of wine handed out in the spring breeze, a hand stretched out in times of crisis. There is no joy and excitement of grudges, but more of involuntary wandering and old friends meeting in the wind and rain. I was carrying a rusty sword and riding a skinny horse, intending to pass by silently. However, the world is too cold to see others freeze to death; however, the people's hearts are too warm, and they can never forget the life-saving bowl of hot porridge. So my story has nothing to do with hegemony, but only a few people who have not been separated for a long time. Free me, Xu Jianyi.