In the early morning, the sun emerges, illuminating the red dust.

The orange light cleared all the sunshine or gloom of the previous night.

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Looking from afar,

Towering and majestic, stunningly gorgeous.

The spirit of the scenery is beautiful, rare in the world.

The verdant light is cold and the smoke is hidden, and the sun is tilting and the clouds are reflected.

Close-up view,

The bamboo forest is like the sea, and the pines and cypresses are connected with the screen.

Quiet and ethereal, fairy weather.

The waterfall explodes the Milky Way, and the clear spring gurgles with its own sound.

There are countless wild flowers and wild fruits, rabbits, deer, roe deer and dolphins are all over the mountain.

A pair of cranes chirped in the dawn, and two old apes cried evening rainbows.

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In the evening, in the bamboo forest of Liuyun Mountain.

At this time, the night is handing over with the sunset, and the orange-red sun slowly disappears with the weak haze, as if reluctant to say goodbye to the sky. And the quiet night slowly invaded, and a piece of blue took the lead in occupying the sky, and continued to dye the depth of black.

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In the Liuyun Mountain, the fairy mist is shrouded, and the rui qi rises.

The clouds are clear and the waves are shining all over the sky.

Like ten thousand dragons entrenched, like a thousand phoenixes whirling dance.

A little golden light flashes, and the sun is majestic and solemn.

Thousands of clouds compete for beauty, and the red orange blooms all over the sky.

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Spring, summer, autumn and winter, cold and summer. It's 10 years later.

This is exactly what happened.

In March, everything recovers.

The flowers are blooming, and the grass is fragrant.

The breeze is gentle, the clouds are blue, and the golden sun shines brightly.

The flowers are blooming, the grass is fragrant, the insects are singing, the frogs are busy.

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Bluestone and tile, flowers and plants are fragrant. Elegant scenery everywhere.

The study room houses the scrolls and scrolls, and the ink is fragrant.

The garden is full of strange flowers and fragrant plants.

In the inner courtyard, the house architecture is beautiful, and the faint orchid fragrance is quiet.

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The villa is built by the mountains and rivers, and the scenery is beautiful.

In the early morning, the fog in the mountains is gloomy.

At noon, the lake is reflected in gold.

In the evening, the setting sun makes the mountains red.

In the quiet of the night, the breeze hits people and is cool.

The building is high and the tiles are colorful, and the courtyard is full of flowers and plants.

The carved fence and jade masonry are not the same, and the warbler song and swallow dance are busy.

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The moon is colorful and starry.

The red dust and fireworks are extinguished, and there seems to be no ripple of right and wrong.

Playing the joys and sorrows, singing about love and hatred.

Except for me, I am responsible for others, and I can only spend a hundred years with sincerity.

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Bamboo leaves rustle, insects chirp.

There is no way to go in the green, and there is no place to go.

Sometimes it is sparse, sometimes it is dense.

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In the midst of the change of seasons, it is the height of summer.

There is a reunion in the red dust, and there are empty tears in the world.

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The figure of the sun setting slowly, and the brilliant glow seemed to be reluctant to endure. The attachment of all living beings has not restored the sunshine and has no more nostalgia. As the last bit of light faded, a crescent moon slowly rose. Only the heat of the scorching summer has not changed, and it is still stubborn.

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In the middle of the night, the stars are shining, and the crescent moon will not be lonely and lonely. The lights of the red dust are far away from the swaying Milky Way. Is it man who is trapped by heaven and earth, or is it heaven and earth who protect man? Before I could think about it, the bustling sound had gradually subsided.

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Cicadas chirp and leaves rustle.

The river flows, and the sea is home.

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At sunrise, ten thousand rays of light are ignited, and clouds and cotton sweep the sky.

Dreams that sleep in the night are gently awakened.

Happy, maybe helpless.

Efforts are also covering up their scars.

Maybe one day, there is no need to disguise laughter and scolding.

The beauty at that time did not have to be forced.

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The sun on the mountain came earlier than below, and it was very real and intense.

It was late autumn, and the trees were full of desolate and fallen leaves.

The most striking thing is the red of the maple leaves.

The wind rises, and the red leaves fall like hot blood.

Like parting, like reunion.

Thousands of people, all kinds of feelings, no answers.

In late autumn next year, it will be the same again.

Mountains will not change, flowers and forests will not change, and maple leaves like hot blood will not change.

Spring, summer, autumn and winter, the cycle of the four seasons will not change.

The only thing that will change is people.

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The barren mountains and mountains are bald, and the fallen leaves are stacked and yellow.

Insects and birds chirp later, and the cold wind adds to the loneliness of the heart.

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The downtown is bustling, and the lights of thousands of homes are sleepless at night.

The village is floating outside the world, and the flue is cooked in the morning.

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The sparkling light reflects the rising sun, and the rivers are still choppy.

The lotus in the small lake has withered, and the clear spring continues to murmur.

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Cloudy and sunny, the four seasons rotate.

Spring is full of potpourri,

Summer is hot and dry, frogs and cicadas chirp.

Autumn is cold and full of maple and red leaves.

Winter snow and pillar ice.

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The rainy body is cool, and the sunrise shines coldly.

The full moon gets drunk, and the crescent moon tells the Psalms.

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