The Yangtze River flows eastward, and the waves wash away heroes. Success or failure turns empty: the green hills are still there, and the sunset is a few degrees red.
The white-haired hermit by the river has long been used to the changes of time. A pot of turbid wine is happy to meet: how many things have been said in ancient and modern times?
-Lin Jiangxian Yang Shen.
The prologue of Water Margin
Reading a book in a secluded place, how many are elegant and Confucian. Small profits in name only do not worry, cutting ice and snow, laughing and watching Wu Gou. The seven males revolved around the Spring and Autumn chaos. See countless fame, countless graphics, countless escapes. Under the new moon, Changchuan and Jianghu mulberry fields become ancient roads. If you are dumbfounded and want to learn from wood, you will choose wood for the poor ape. If you are afraid of getting hurt, you might as well cover the cup in your hand and listen to the new tone.
The prologue of A Dream of Red Mansions
A piece of nonsense, a bitter tear, Dou Yun author crazy, who can understand the taste.
The opening poem of journey to the west
Chaos distinguishes between heaven and earth, and no one sees it.
Since Pangu broke the HarmonyOS system, it has opened up a clear distinction from here.
Covering the crowd and respecting benevolence, I found that everything was getting better.
If you want to know the power of nature, you must watch the westward journey.