Fu Shifeng

The wine is scattered and the skip is sitting, and the brocade belt is rotten and hung on the Wu hook.
Duanjiao is good at stabbing tigers, and his green pupils are like water and clear autumn.
It's a pity that the subjects are too simplistic, how can a strong man be a prisoner of chapters and sentences.
Fighting in the Central Plains is exhausting, and Jiang Bomu is cold.

In the glorious summer, in the dark and chaotic world, all the heroes of a hundred religions stand side by side and shine brightly.
Walk freely, one person, one horse, one knife, one bow, and one jug of wine.

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