There is still a long way to go in Xiu Yuan. I want to travel thousands of miles up and down. It begins with a single step, and it is impossible to know horsepower thousands of miles away. I have seen people's hearts for a long time. There is no road in the world. If there are more people walking, it will become a road. Let others talk, and continue the journey of life. The future is distant and dark. But don't be afraid. Only those who are not afraid have a bright future, and history is written by people. People's every move is writing their own history. Soldiers are always looking for light. He doesn't lie in the clear sky and enjoy the sunshine, but he lights a torch in the dark to light people's way forward, and then disappears at the dawn gate. They couldn't recover from the flood, leaving only a mountain with horseshoe prints behind him, and they couldn't recover from doubt. Suddenly, Qian Fan looms to bid farewell to tourists every year, cross the pond road, and draw boats under the drizzle to advise you not to carve rocks. The population on the road is like a monument. It rains in Tomb-Sweeping Day. Pedestrians on the road are not responsible for being old. On the road, some refugees finally tempted to open the Thousand Peaks of Martial Arts, and the road turned to the Bajiang River and sometimes sold melons in their own gardens on the roadside. He sometimes plants willows around his seclusion road, climbs up the road with a sense of balance, and then loses motivation.