Two generations to Qing

Light gauze and amorous leaves are all over the sky, and the purple gate moon boat is at the beginning of its rest. The morning mist is torn by the wind and rain. Fish love the abyss, looking back, but into the abyss. Blood splashed peach blossom red, tears in the white light< Br> the love of a thousand years, the love of two generations, once fell into the world of mortals, once trapped in this net, how, in this world, what is love?