C11 Her casket

"Bian Yue, the endless yellow sand, dust returns to the dust."

"Today I'm coming. The song of the old, the song of the spring and autumn …"

On a pavilion in the imperial palace, a man was singing in a low voice, his sleeves fluttering as if he were in a dream.

There was only one person sitting below. He drank the wine cup by cup, but he wasn't drunk at all. On the contrary