Yan jimeng
Two people in each dream, the lake boat drinks white clothes, vibrates the string to make the sword, and is indifferent. Wake up, remember.
A clear autumn is far away, and a boat flies in late summer. The wine is cooked horizontally, the wind plays the piano, and Sha Ou plays a little. The cold light blows the piano at first, and the shock wave is vertical and horizontal. Pay him more kindness and enmity, and the sunset is beautiful.
Cherish the past
The lonely day is dusk, and I have nothing to say to go upstairs alone. Looking around, the battlements are dark, but only the flow of Wani can be seen.
Jin Yong's blue waves are chaotic and the wind is moving. There are ups and downs everywhere, whistling and staring. .
No hero's blood, sprinkle the southeast wall of grain. The distant cymbals ring, and the long tassels are also closed.
There is a flame of Zhu Tian, right and wrong are rejected. Generous and sad songs passed away, reopening the quiet autumn. .
Success or failure is at stake, and it comes naturally. Fish and firewood talk a lot, but history is heavy.
And drink green in the cup, no intention of sealing Hou. A man has a lifelong ambition, and his motherland is in China!
Water diversion and assassination
The wind blows easily, but the blood of the sun is still wet. Your country is hostile to snow. How can you look back at Wangjiashan?
Lonely and loyal, bear the burden of humiliation, silent and lonely, want to die several times. Singing and playing, laughing coldly and drinking.
In a flash, the thunder changed and the moon became cold. Angry crack canthus, regardless of the edge jump to death.
Emirates, a long drive and a light owl, a land of heroism and wild swallowing, and a sunny day of Bai Hong! Han Wei hung out of the realm and mourned for one hundred years.
The partridge is a godsend.
At dusk, the west wind is easy to water, and the crescent moon is full of snow clothes. Before the Song Dynasty was built, the flying cover never returned to Qin.
The long scroll is exhausted, and the short sword is cold. The rise and fall of the times. The arrogant have gone, and the sad songs are generous and strong for a hundred years.