[Long Review] Gu Li, you were once the author of that most beautiful dream: Dongdong is a small bandit

  At first glance, it was just an ordinary woman, but then I saw Gu Li, this gentle and refined man. With just a few strokes of the brush, he would always appear at the most critical moments when Qing Chen needed him the most and felt the most helpless. He reminded me of Qin Xi, who was hard to find, with minimal appearances, yet guided the story that followed. Fate was mistaken, longing was not up to people, from the very beginning, I thought, perhaps Gu Li was the male lead. As they say, the great way can be asked about emotions, unfortunately, the timing was wrong, Gu Li was not the young Gu Li. He had loved before, loved someone his master did not approve of, loved someone who had always insisted on being with him. That's what love is all about, having no regrets. But in the end, it was just life and death, parting ways, longing and memories.

  I often think that Qingchen only lost to time, if it were earlier, if Gu Li was later, if there were more ifs, maybe everything would be different. Resentment and hatred will meet, love and separation will part, seeking but not obtaining, actually, there is still something that cannot be let go of. Later, when I opened Qingchen's words again, not putting down, not picking up, those things that have already happened, as well as those that will happen in the future, are all still there. Perhaps one day, he won't be there anymore, it's just that I didn't notice.

  At that time, Gu Li was very good to her. He protected her, spoiled her, and took care of her, giving Qing Chen a sense of belonging. For him, she defied the Huan Hua Sect. For her, he was willing to be punished together in the Ice Cave. Together with her, he bore the ten lashes. Seeing this, I think that in The Journey of Flower, Qian Gu also went through hardships to achieve the greatest Tao, a perfect life. But that's another story. In this one, the person Gu Li loved did not die, and they were together again, cultivating together and having children, their love finally at peace.

  Qingchen said that when it comes to things she is certain about, whether it's emotions or other things, she isn't afraid of getting hurt. She no longer pursues him, she only hopes that in the future years, he will be happier, and the person who can make him happier has already appeared. So everything returns to nothingness, just like before. I don't want to understand Gu Li's feelings towards Qingchen because this is just Qingchen's liking, Qingchen's love, a one-sided love that has nothing to do with others.

  The bond of dust has been mistaken, but the longing in our hearts remains unchanged, so why not return home?

  Then she woke up from her dream, but there was one dream that lingered, and in it, she had hummed a soft tune.

  The moon is cold, the old place is desolate, the eyes are frozen in sorrow. The withered grass and the dying smoke are a sad sight. A mouthful of fiery liquor cannot quench the thirst, the heat fills my throat. Which memory is it that makes me feel so melancholy? The clouds are low, the wind is strong, the wine flag is tangled, now and then, past and present intertwined. The sound of the qin is like weeping, the late wind is urgent, the remaining moonlight has seen countless farewells. Snow falls thousands of miles away, hiding my green robe, separated by the horizon, not expecting to meet again.

  I pour wine alone, dance with my sword, the wind rises, the empty stage is filled with rain. How many memories are stirred up? The clouds fly wildly, the green peak is three feet high, the loyalty is strong, the Du Fu's drunken pride is hidden in his green clothes. Not even a glance is exchanged, the longing in my heart is overwhelming.

  Who whispers to me from afar? Who raises an eyebrow, not regretting their lifelong intentions? The peach blossoms have laughed away the spring wind, it's hard to find a place to guard our love. Where can we meet again? Snow falls thousands of miles away, hiding my green robe, separated by the horizon, not expecting to meet again.

  I'll drink this cup of wine as an offering, and ask the heavens and the earth, where is the lonely soul going to rely on? Snow falls thousands of miles away, hiding my green robe, separated by the horizon, not expecting to meet again. I ride my horse back to my hometown, but which place is it that I used to be in? The cup is empty, the plum blossoms are like snow, the dreams are futile, the scars remain.

  I've been through so much, how many emotions have I experienced? A few scattered notes do not make a melody. I'll pick up my lute and play on the cold steps, but it's better to just go back home. The child cries out in sorrow, when will we meet again?