Listen, that's a colorful sentence she left in the Song Dynasty: "I always remember that I don't know where to go at dusk in Xiting, and I return to the boat at night ..." Listen, that's her dead face in the mirror: "I'm tired of combing my hair at night ... people are thinner than yellow flowers ..." Listen, that's her mood of talking to passing geese: "Goose passed by. Little by little ... "Listen, it was her self-effacing sigh, drowned in loneliness, and a tear on her face gradually disappeared, leaving a long dripping sound.
I wrote this myself, written by Yi 'an Li Qingzhao.