A little recall, two Sauvignon Blanc,

Three words are poems, and four words are obsessed.

Five points are not relatives, how are the six masters lonely,

Trigger seven emotions continuous, meandering eight miles.

Ninety-nine is one, and the people of ten directions are sad,

Thousands of days of drowning, thousands of sleepless nights.

——"One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Million, Million, Million, Even"

Note: The wandering of the world in those years has become a dream in these years. Problems that can't be solved in youth are not solved outside of youth, because the best time has passed. Think of the people who have been here in those years, but in these years they have been silent, and not even a shadow has been left. Life is so lonely and miserable!

"I Am the Emperor of Freedom" [Poetry] 43: "One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six Millions" is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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