Bingqilin@vip.qq.com, seeking YY pronunciation of five different words, cursing and scattering.

On the Seven Chivalrous Men in the Imperial City, I stood on the heartbroken cliff, and the hero bled for a long time, and I was a hero in my voice.

Phonetic symbols are no longer fake, and vertical and horizontal phonetic symbols become crazy and stupid. I rode a swift horse and learned Buddha in troubled times.

I want to pick flowers on the roadside, but my heart is hard to say. If I take office on the battlefield, I will kill them. If I shout angrily, the world will collapse.

Independent of this imperial city, the tiger was reincarnated as the black dragon, and the black dragon got up and churned, named after the sound.

I tease the world, and my voice is connivance to the emperor. The cliff hurts too much. Who will live and die with me?

Children are empty, I stand proudly in the wind and rain, my long bow is on the battlefield, and I am loose on Nanshan.

Who knows the emperor's heart, who knows that the black dragon is fierce and unbearable, and he tries his best to lead the way.

Talking about swords on Huashan Mountain, I will not see my old friends until I die. The mountains and rivers are picturesque and give up on myself.

Ordinary people in the world can see through it. Heroes have been arrogant since ancient times, and the emperor left this poem.

Heroes cry, no one in hell is lingering, heroes are short, but I stand in front of the banner.

Wan Lifeng blew, the tiger lost the wild dog, the black dragon defeated the shrimp and crab, and Hu Weidi showed me.

The emperor got up and settled in Kunlun and died in battle to stay in spirit of war. I came from this Buddhism school, and the Three Realms left me a real person.

In the middle of the night, my heart is depressed and my hero is short. Who asked, if the horse is tired and people are sleepy, who will discuss the sword again?

Time is like a knife, easy to dusk. I respect the five elements, see Gan Kun in the lonely ridge and gallop on the battlefield.

The black dragon is rolling in the sea. How do heroes love solitary pillows? Words are endless and impatient, and tigers howl and powder mountains.

Everything in the world often goes against my will. I am the king of the golden palace. I defeated a thousand troops by myself, and I don't know its beauty.

Who is reciting poems in the mountains? The ghost of hell cries for mortals. I want to be a fairy, not looking for anything on the battlefield.

Bonfires disturb sleepless nights, and fairy tea has no taste. The brave men on the battlefield have been crying, and blood is like wine in their hearts.

Today, the pronunciation is put in, the rhyme goes with the wind, and the battlefield also comes to preach good training. I left a big seal on my pronunciation.

I hitched a ride with the emperor. He let me dismount and win the voice of the world. I retired from the mountains and played the pipa.

2

The phonetic world is in chaos. I fought alone as a hero. I want to be an emperor and fight more. After the battle, the theory became dull.

If you leave, who will say? How many people have returned to the battlefield, and the story will last forever. How hard is it for a hero to call himself emperor?

The waves and the beach embrace you. Who cares if you die in battle? Heroes hate shortness of breath since ancient times, and who knows how to survive.

Happy life is too lonely, no one wears clothes in the middle of the night, and the cold wind is too sad. Who will wear this shirt today?

The emperor stood on this battlefield, disdaining the overwhelming sound, and the sound was too broad, and everyone was happy in the mountains.

I monopolize this side for you, but I am always hurt mercilessly. I am alone, who will accompany me to enjoy the glory?

The wind is flying over the battlefield, and a person's heart is bleak at night. Looking at the broken beam under the broken bridge, who will break the sunset at dusk?

This horn is too loud. I am a general among soldiers. I used to love too abstractly, so I fell gently with the wind.

Heroes love their children. For anyone, this road will be flat, the mountain road is long, and you can walk alone. When will the war stop?

No one listens to my complaints, and no one knows the pain in my heart. The sky is high and the clouds are light, and the moon is accompanied by a lone star, but no one is accompanied by a lone eagle.

Tears dry this well, if the mountain shakes and the tiger wakes up, the sky has its own black dragon top, and the emperor is independent on the mountain.

Who would lay down his life to kill? I will decide whether the country will stay or not. No one dares to disobey my king's orders.

Nobody laughs at me. I'm bold. I'm bitter. If the sky is angry and lightning, who will give me an umbrella in rainy days?

The mountain remains water, and it is still chaotic to cut it down. If it is so unbearable, we can see the end of the world.

No one has an extraordinary voice, but his anger burns with the fire, and the hero claims to be the emperor, which makes Buddhism play a solitary Zen.

I am far away from you and climb this cliff for you. No one is lonely in the middle of the night. Watch me turn the sky upside down.

One-armed Beijing carving, who lifts Xiao for me, I carry the burden alone, and the emperor is arrogant.

It was a dark night, but it was dawn. It's hard for people and ghosts to love each other. It hurts that no one can show it to me in my lifetime.

Crying for you to break the bridge, now it's do or die, the bamboo forest is too depressed and drunk.

No one is brave with me. I'm cold and proud of myself. I'm in my prime, too young. Watch me finish this king.

three

How I want to fall into this hell. Who knows the pain of lovesickness? I am the tiger in the mountain and the main voice.

Love and hate are in a dilemma. The Buddha kept me in his heart, and I put the emperor on a magnificent tree. Who will accompany me to King's Road?

Crying in the middle of the night, the tiger just wanted to get out of the mountain. He woke up very fragile for whom, and suddenly a cold wind blew over the battlefield.

How I want to let go of this grand plan, play clear lake with you, and chase after it under the blue sky, but I'm just as angry as a stove.

Buddhists eat clean and fast, flowers bloom on the roadside, and no one picks them. Looking at this sad scene alone.

How comfortable it is to live outside these three realms and indulge in bamboo forests, and who deserves the emperor's love?

I have brought myself to Qingyun, and no one has seen my cards clearly. Once true love was buried deep, leaving me alone to look at the dead tree.

Whoever picks the flowers on the roadside, a generation of Jiangshan blood changes, the previous life is generous and does not love, and it is difficult to laugh at the sea.

Looking at the corner of my eye, tears are dripping. Who will lay down his life to accompany me to the battlefield? Who will go against this Buddha's heart and who will run around with me?

Today, I disobeyed the Buddha. Whoever cherishes heartbreak and fears galloping horses, the emperor has his own heroes' meeting.

Love and hate make me disheartened and sad alone. I want to fly with Buddha, but there is right and wrong in the world.

How majestic the sound is. After all, the emperor is a fortress. The wall of thousands of feet was destroyed, and tears were mixed with the water of the Yangtze River.

The emperor has been lonely and single, and desolation has accumulated into loss. To whom is this love right or wrong?

Leave this everlasting regret song and write a legend on the battlefield. I have too much love and hate in my heart. Who should I tell my heart pain to?

Give up a person's life, a person's life, how naked the Buddha's heart is, how much love and hate, who will erase the reputation of life.

Can reason be separated from beat the devil, for whom to fast, for the Buddha in the West, for this country, even if it is separated from you?

I'm broke, who will accompany me every day? The sword stands first in the world, bleak but helpless.

I moved my voice, put my name on the list of gods, and immediately wrote a legend with a horizontal knife, daring to ask who wears neon in the three realms.

The situation in Wan Li rises with the wind, and the voice of aloofness is unparalleled. I have been bloodbath for generations and buried you in my heart.

On the battlefield, the flag stands high, winning the voice of the world, and the rivers and mountains of Wan Li are opened up. I am the emperor of Xianjian Imperial City.

four

Piano, chess, calligraphy and painting are also inseparable, and so are children in Jianghu. Why should true love be separated? Who should the trotters run for?

The river is mixed with tears, and all it flows is love and righteousness. If the black dragon is unable to roll, he just wants to stop looking at the lonely pillow.

Who often writes about rivers and lakes and writes about eternal hatred? The black dragon is troubled by the earthquake, and men manage their own future.

Forgetting old friends turned into tears. I want to be a god of pronunciation, and I don't want to sink into love.

Beautiful women play this guqin, accompany me to walk in the purple bamboo forest and sing dragons on the battlefield. Who described this sad poem as?

Tears three feet wet wipes, little smoke in the war, singing a sad song to see the ancient and modern, who knows the heroic heart?

The sound is so chaotic now that many fast horses can't run. If you are determined to do it, heroes only hate dusk.

There were thousands of troops on the battlefield, and there was no news of anyone from then on. I leave poems with rhymes. What should I practice when the tiger falls?

My fair lady, my gentleman, I love it to my heart. Tears streamed down her face. What is the reason for my good intentions, and how many beautiful years have I lost?

People who believe in Buddhism have no temptation and no medicine to save their fallen voice. I stand on the mountains. I am a hero.

It's a long way to go to share this glass of wine with you. If you are alone, the world will roar.

The emperor is domineering on all sides, and the cold wind blows behind him. Whoever accepts the fallen hero will inevitably fall into the ravine.

The voice emperor was born again and again. It's too painful to blame whoever you fall in love with, and to seal love and break love with anyone.

The battlefield is full of debris. The black dragon looked up with anger when you called who dared to come. Where can a hero know me?

No one knows whether this is good or bad. One stroke of fame is too elegant, and everyone is shorter than the sky. No one can step on it.

Who planted the flowers on the roadside, who picked them when they were in full bloom, and how to guess the beauty's heart, a person looks sad and sad.

For whom the Buddhist incense is burned in the temple, and for whom the pike is held on the battlefield, tears flow down the Yangtze River and infiltrate the earth.

I held my head high and stood alone in the Dragon and Tiger Hall. Before, the earth was boundless, and I was king in troubled times.

Recalling the past, there is no reward for falling tigers, and blood and tears are spilled on the battlefield. How many descendants imitated me?

This poem is so bold that I want to wave it. Someone cooks cold wine, and I won't go to earth.

five

After a storm, the mountains are looking for you, and the pain of the emperor is rising. For whom, he fell to the bottom?

Today I am the emperor, and everyone can see how proud I am, how mysterious my five elements are, and how maverick I am.

In the small building, people are blown away, and the emperor is arrogant. The flowers on the roadside are accompanied by streams, and everyone knows that I am hungry.

There is no sound in the vertical and horizontal directions, and there are no enemies on the battlefield. This kind of war is too bizarre. I want to move this Mount Tai.

After the storm, whoever plays this guzheng, who does not waste this life, will fight for it.

The black dragon is mixed with the phoenix, and he won't move here. People who died in battle praised him, and I controlled my voice alone.

Everyone wants to be Jackie Chan, who dares to write a long macro at once? Because of love, my eyes are hazy, and I have climbed over Qian Shan.

No one can understand how difficult it is. Laying down one's life on the battlefield is a kind of. Is it the kind of man who cries with a knife and coquetry for half his life?

Today, I will put down my voice and play this pipa for you. The name of the emperor will spread all over the world, and I will drive around the world alone.

Where is the home at the end of the world? I can see all the blue and white flowers in the fog. The Buddha dressed me in cassock, but I often miss her.

Accompany you to the ends of the earth, carefree these years, always accompany a sip of tea, no longer take this steel knife.

The emperor is destined to be a lonely man, who will accompany the horse all his life and practice Buddhism for a hundred years.

Beautiful women cry out of tune, everything in the world is unpredictable, and there are no tigers in the forest. What is wonderful in this life?

When the love and hate subside, who will give me my heart? Under the banner, I will raise my knife and proudly wrap the sky.

The road to the emperor is more painful. Whoever has a storm, whose winter clothes are too thin, who escapes between life and death.

Who can beat me? The road to love is too hasty. Love and hate are good, and pain is asking for it after all.

Tears spilled all over Tomb-Sweeping Day, and from then on, one person broke into the study, and old friends separated, and the demons became demons.

The road is long, and the blue and white flowers are incomplete. If you walk through this street, who would have thought that the emperor said

No one understood the dream of spring last night, and no one wrote a thousand-year-old poem. No one can understand me. That sad night was too difficult.

After many cold nights, my tears are dry and my heart is cracked. I used to be very sympathetic to people, but today I saw soldiers on the battlefield.