Shu Guo Kuang, Su-Dong Lin autumn. Moonrise off Yamaguchi, full window Shochiku yin. Curl a candle, the Taoist language late at night. Also _set_ for the fruit cake, comfort Roam the heart of this. I still hate the non-far the public, no glass of wine sent me. Down the mountain tomorrow, sigh difficult to re-invent. Looking back four decades, Ju-Qin Qin Chen Ho gap; Jiu You can not be that empty Zhang Yin Chang Wang.