The three worlds are mysterious, cold and enchanting. A drop of blood binds lovesickness and (him) her, and a tree condenses obsession and change. In the three thousand years of the world, he holds a green tea and bows his head to ask the woman in his arms: Qingqing Zijin, leisurely my heart, But for the sake of the king, I have pondered until now. My heart pleases you, and the world knows it. I just ask the little girl, do you know it?