Changping Sword

In the February day, when the grass is cut and the orioles are flying, the willows are raised on the banks of the banks and the spring is drunk, while the children still imitate the tortoises and take a bath, blindly taking advantage of the east wind to fly the purple sparrows. Walking along the embankment of Hu State, I heard the echo in my ears. Fang Changping sat on the grass. The sight is raised to the boundless galaxy. High season... Good. Lifting the Changping sword at hand, he headed back in the direction he came from. This is the 256th hour when the sun rises and the moon sets. I know you can't understand it, but you will understand. He looked up at you, silently. You will know. The days are reincarnated and broken, and the emotions and sadness turn into happiness... I can no longer remember the original poem. Will Kendo go further? He doesn't know, but he will always know. Just like these two hundred and fifty-six stars. The beginning of the week. Shangtang. Chen fish. Late Han Dynasty. Wang Tang. Jing Ru. And He Ling.