The generals wept with tears, the bronze horn sounded, and their courage was destroyed. Covered with a white towel, wearing thin cotton, silently holding a gun.
The besieged jockey can only move forward, gradually dying and half in the grave. Say what Christmas, say what gratitude, the dream of purgatory is unheard of.
Eastern heroes come out of the snowfield, and polar bears gather dust. Discoloration, dry rays, hail and clouds, heavy artillery fire.
The trump card is afraid of the broken blade, and the Indiana Jones is interspersed with the maze. The White House was shocked, and Europe and the United States were in an uproar. Who can turn the tide?
The jockey rushed to the great ship, dreaming of rolling in the deep. Hundreds of miles gather together to annihilate, and the retreat is difficult.
The enemy has collapsed, so ask yourself, how many people are there on the south bank of Qingchuan? The war of the founding of the People's Republic of China comforted Xuanyuan for five thousand years.
Man called hero flat foreign aggression, Kunlun warm sun. The mountains and rivers are red, the flag is blood, and the jackals don't invade.
The descendants of the dragon are the souls of the Yellow Emperor, and the Great Wall of Wan Li twists and turns. Full moon guardrail, Yan 'an, Shenzhou, please see Fuxing.
Behind the final victory is endless loss.