In the sound of light and shadow, the sky is still cold and the water is still cold. In the dream, the silk and bamboo sing softly, outside the building and outside the mountain. People outside Loushanguan didn't return, and no one did. Looking back on the word "Yan Guo", it was earlier than forgetting Sichuan, and the piano player burst into tears. Don't abandon me, I still pity, the sky is boundless, I can accommodate prosperity and sadness, bend my eyebrows, and I am destined to be a thing of the past.