As the years passed, Jia Rong was dyed red with blood. Who can rule for you?

A wonderful pen is hard to write, a sad piece of paper and a pale oath can't resist the forgetting of the years after all.

The promise of Sansheng VII is only for a memorial service.

I have shed blood and tears for you for a thousand years, and I will take the world away for you.

After a hundred nights, who turns the lantern for me, who leans against the door to watch the fireworks for thousands of years. There are few stars at night, who holds the lamp for me and who waits for the loneliness of the Millennium by leaning against the door alone.