The Legend of the Cold Moon of the Three Kingdoms

The beacon fire is burning in all directions, burning all over the sky, spreading the flag in the wind, our army has sent thousands of horses to fight, and the killing is at the fingertips, who comes alone, with silver armor as snow, who stands alone in the city, who sees the moment as an eternity. Just drink a glass of turbid wine and get drunk. When you are drunk, you can see the snow in front of the steps. When I wake up from a dream in the Ming Dynasty, I wonder where the city is, saying goodbye to the north and the south, looking at the wind and sand filling the sky, the armor and broken swords, who can bury this love and hate. There are three flute sounds, can you change it in a blink of an eye? In front of you, the wind is everywhere, the whistle is swaying, and the horse is wailing. Behind him, the sunset is like blood, the flags are torn, the halberds are broken, and the drums are silent. Understand, the past life and the next life are no longer the present.