I have a hand that can hold on to the brush, and the ink and painting are like flowing clouds and flowing water around plain paper. My hand, in the world, swiping ink, no one can get out of the right way! My hand, painting all the famous mountains and rivers in the world, and ghosts and gods are shocked, and the heaven and earth are moved! My hand, knowing the impermanence of the world, seeing the gods in the sky, and the disguised appearance of the clear hell! My hand, painting all the 365 fairies and gods in the sky, and countless heroes and beautiful women on the ground! My hand, exhausting the power of creation, is really the hand of gods and men, and people cannot ask for it! It is this hand, every finger that makes the fairies and gods in the sky, and heroes, treat them like gods! But I only like beautiful women as companions, talking about piano and painting, and savoring the Qing tea together,