DZzzz

This year, I spent most of my time in Jiangnan. The beauty of Jiangnan is endless. If I were to look ahead, it would be no more than imagining the day flowers bloom next year, and how long I can enjoy the blossoms.
This year, I have been too comfortable for too long, and I was truly undisciplined, gaining weight rapidly, so I didn't like taking photos—I know this is not good. I will change.
The rest of my life will definitely be a continuous POW, following my mentor step by step, ascending with my sect.
May everyone find their true calling in the industry in the new year, and may the road ahea

The boundless void is the infinite body. The entire great world resides in the void. The entire great world is an infinite transformed body. Everyone's original face is truly an infinite perfect body. Inside and outside are connected in the great emptiness, which is originally an infinite body. Recognizing the original face, east, west, south, and north require no thought. Some uphold the marvelous method of the infinite, with boundless and immeasurable merits, forever ending the cycle of birth and death in suffering, and at the moment of danger, radiate light universally, illuminating the ten

Watching Avatar 3. I never expected that these three and a half hours would be just a bunch of little blue people and parents gossiping about raising children. It's not about the end of domestic entertainment; I think the world is truly doomed—just like this.
The little rich lady watches the first half before bed, I watch the second half after.
Waking up, I go to Wynn to eat ginger wine chicken, which is pretty good. Qingyuan chicken remains consistently good for ten years.
But Avatar is getting worse and worse, just like this world.

I wish to dream of Wu and Yue because of it, flying across Jing Lake's moon in one night.
The lake moon reflects my shadow, sending me to Shany Creek.
Xie Gong's lodging still exists today, with clear monkeys crying over the rippling green water.

Mao Mao Qingyan receives, all with white hair.
Better to keep silent and stay still, sometimes trusting your own steps.

The plantain leaves remain furled, the lilac buds are tight,
Both face the spring breeze, each with their own sorrow.

The emerald mountains are unbrushed, the osmanthus dew is deep, and the golden lotus island is sprinkled with falling petals.
The bright moon hangs low, tired of the fame and fortune.
Raise the cup in silence, hands in the sleeves, old melodies with new tunes.
In the world of fireworks, there is still half of the dealings with me.

I have a fren who wrote a book called "The Faraway of the Jianghu" before.
I've been thinking these days about whether to go find him.
My fren's book has been written diligently, and out of respect, I haven't read it.
The "Youth Song Series" is one of the few cultivation works where I have read the original — I don't know the author — and I really like it; each generation has its own martial arts world.
In the end, they all died.
Standing at the beginning, looking towards the inevitable end for everyone.

I love the lake very much, the emerald curtains open a thousand feet. The gentleman walks leisurely, making a thousand trips in a day. All my allied seagulls, after today’s alliance, let us not suspect each other in our comings and goings. Where is the white crane? Try to come along with me.