The horses and young men under the night sky in Luocheng, and the horse's hooves stomped on the bluestone slabs. He was like a character in the story of the storyteller, coming from the clouds and waterfalls, heading to the rivers and lakes, walking to the green mountains, and watching the sunset set. If you ask, who is the unrequited guest in this world? He will answer, the breeze, the bright moon, me. ... This may be a long story, and I will tell you slowly.