Is it unintentional to lie under the forest and swear to sweep away the old dust in Hu Tian? Looking at the end, there is no snow in the south, and the empty Beidou shines on the soul.
Heroes don't have to boast about riding and shooting, and the desert is home. For the golden helmet, there is no yellow sand in the black Fei Ying.
The history of the ages shocked the fighters, and thousands of grievances wrote heroes. Tianjiao also means flogging, all in a dream of becoming famous.
Why not laugh at the sky in anger, thin horses don't whip. Affectionate still seems ruthless and bitter, heartbroken for sixteen years.
There are only chivalrous people in Jianghu, and it is impossible to kill heroes as ghosts without me.
Thieves have thieves, and poetry books despise them.