The wind under the setting sun has taken on a hint of coolness, this is a completely different world, you can only understand it by sitting here, you have no way down, no road to other places, all you have is a few rocks around you, and on both sides are abysses, and the fog slowly condenses under your feet
I sat, looking around at this hundred-meter-high lone peak, one after another in the distance, and suddenly I had a wonderful illusion, as if I was a fairy, as long as I put my feet together, I could fly up from the top of this cliff, step on the sea of clouds, step on the lone stone on a thousand peaks, and fly to the top of the snowy mountain.
The immortal holy mountain is still the same, but it is snow-white, and a bunch of earthly dirt is used to cover up the winding wounds. Whoever holds his coffin and walks into the bronze door, the wind ends, and time withers. Who insisted on walking, in memory, the wooden boat that quietly anchored on the shore of Xizi Lake spilled, spilled a boat of lotus roots. This decade of light has finally become a piece of paper.