Su Shi, a man like the wind. He has another heart as nimble as the wind. Wind is the spirit of the past, and will not bear the heavy of the secular. But why does the fetters of the world have to imprison the spirit of the wind?! After the Huangzhou poem case, the windy scholar began to fall like a dead leaf that could be controlled by no wind. Walk, walk, the city follows the city. Sushi's heart is at the bottom of the wind. See the breeze on the river, see the bright moon in the mountains, or have a dream of flying crane. How about the wind? Only when you are alone will you visit occasionally. The breeze came slowly, the waves were not happy, and did not touch his heart. At the bottom of the darkest valley, a gust of wind finally came from the end of Qingping in the far-off bottom of his heart, so appropriately stirred his heartstrings. The strings ring. This is not a gentle stir, but so strong, like a crack like four strings a sound ah!
弦断帛裂。王者的雄风如长虹锐利贯通尘封的心房。豁然,释然,顿悟。
Broken string and broken silk. The majesty of the king is like a rainbow penetrating the dusty heart. Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly.
他重整旗鼓。从此,逍遥红尘,寄情山水,如新生一般,再从那青萍之末,凌波微步,罗袜生尘的翩跹而来。
He rallied. Since then, the free world, the landscape, like a new life, and then from the end of the green Ping, Lingbo micro step, Luo Sox born of the dust lightly.
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