Longyuan in Troubled Times

The sky fell into the sky in shock, and the green front pierced the moon of Sui Dynasty. There is a fire in Doukeng at night, in the cold corner of Youzhou, and the chaotic clouds are like iron. Gu should fly together, thousands of miles away from the mountains and rivers, but this body is so lonely. Even if the beauty hides hatred, and the green plum boils blood, it will all be given, the frost blade said. There was an undercurrent of basaltic wind, and even more unexpectedly, the Buddha's heart was suddenly broken. A game of mountains and rivers, a few graves of heroes, and the yellow sand is annihilated. The disarming smoke wave, looking back at the beacon, thousands of sea waves. There are no monuments left. The stone is cold. The autumn grass in the Tang Palace is listening to the chanting of Long Yuan.