Not old trenchman soul Horn singing Chuanjiang (Impression Wulong Cup)

Walking into Wulong, I kissed the familiar land. In Chuanjiang, I still watched the deep canyon. I listened to the footnotes of the years, only the trumpet still rang, but the Truster didn’t know where it was? I don’t know where to go? Whether they are in the season of poetry and painting, or on