The decoration style is very good and the price is moderate.
There are all kinds of entertainment and leisure projects in it.
There's another one in Shenzhen (high-end club in Shu Mei), which is not bad.
You can bring friends to play together.
Li Hechuan
Tang Dynasty: Li Shangyin
Du Mu in Jing Zhao is the preface of Li Changji's collected works, which is very peculiar and handed down from generation to generation. If Chang Ji's sister marries Wang, then I want to talk about Chang Ji in particular.
Long and thin, with eyebrows and long fingers and claws, he can recite books very hard. It was first known by Changli Hanyu. Among the tourists, Wang Shenyuan, Yang Jingzhi, Quan Kun and Cui Zhi are close friends. Every sunrise, I walk with the public. I don't have a topic, so I will write a poem, which others think deeply and the time limit refers to. Heng was a slave since he was a child, riding a donkey and carrying an old tattered kit. When he got anything, he put the book in his bag. When she got home at dusk, Mrs. Tai took the maid out of her bag and saw a lot of books. She said, "It is my duty to express my heart." Lights and food. Chang Ji took the book from the maid, ground ink and origami, and threw it into his bag. If you don't get drunk and don't return, you'll be hopeless if you whine for one day. Wang and Yang explore and write back and forth from time to time. Chang Ji often rides a horse to and from Beijing and Los Angeles alone, and everywhere he goes, he leaves things behind, so there are only four volumes left in Shenyang.
When Chang Ji was dying, he suddenly saw a man dressed, driving a red scorpion and holding a board. If the book is too ancient or thunderous, the cloud should be called Chang Ji. Longji couldn't read, so he stayed in the hotel and kowtowed, saying, "May is old and ill, and doesn't want to go." The man in robes smiled and said, "The emperor has become a white jade building, and I will call you as a souvenir at once. There is no pain in the sky. " Longji cried alone and everyone around him saw it. If it is rare, it will exist forever. There is a lot of smoke in the window where I often live, and I smell the sound of traffic control. Taifuren was so anxious that people couldn't stop crying. She waited like cooking five buckets of millet, but Chang Ji died unexpectedly. Sister Wang Can can't pretend to be a long-term lucky person, as she has seen.
Alas, the sky is grey and high, and there is an emperor in the fruit Does the empire have gardens, palaces and pavilions? If you believe it, it will be high that day and the dignity of the emperor will be high. It is also appropriate to have more talented people in this world. Why should we care about Changji as soon as possible and let it die? Alas, there are really so-called geniuses and magical people in the world, not only on the ground, but also in the sky. Chang Jisheng was born for twenty-seven years, and his position was not very common, so he was often rejected by people. What's more, the emperor is the only one who values it, and people don't value it? Does anyone see that it will win the emperor?
Jing Zhao Du Mu prefaced Li He's poems and described Li Changji's adventures in detail. Li He's deeds are spread all over the world. Li Changji's sister, married to the Wangs, is particularly comprehensive when it comes to Changji.
Li Changji is slim, his eyebrows are almost connected, his fingers are very long, he can recite poems earnestly and write quickly. He was first known by Han Yu from Changli. Among the people who made friends with Changji, Wang Shenyuan, Yang Jingzhi, Quan Kun and Cui Zhi were the closest to him. Changji travels with them every morning. He never sets a topic before writing a poem. Like others, he compiles an article and keeps in mind the norms of poetry. He often takes a little boy with him, rides a weak donkey and carries a bag made of tattered brocade. When he meets something he feels, he writes it down and puts it in his bag. When he came back in the evening, his mother asked her maid to take the toolbox and take out the poems in it. Seeing that she had written a lot of manuscripts, she said, "The child won't stop until he vomits!" Say that finish, light the lamp and bring the rice to Chang Ji. Chang Ji asked the maid to take out the manuscript, grind ink, spread paper, weave those poems into complete poems and put them in other bags. As long as it wasn't a drunken mourning day, he did all this, and then he stopped watching those works. Wang Shenyuan and Yang Jingzhi often come to copy poems from their schoolbags. Chang Ji often rides a donkey back and forth between Chang 'an and Luoyang, the capital. Sometimes he writes down his works wherever he goes and discards them at will, so Shenyang only has four volumes of Li He's Poems.
When Li Changji was dying, he suddenly saw a man wearing red silk and satin, driving a red and black dragon in broad daylight, holding a piece of wood with ancient seal or Shi Guwen written on it, saying it was called Chang Ji, who didn't know anyone. Suddenly he got out of bed and kowtowed and said, "My mother is old and sick. I don't want to go. " The man in red said with a smile, "The Emperor of Heaven has just built a white jade building and wants you to write a note for it immediately. Life in the sky is still happy, not painful! " Chang Ji cried alone, and everyone next to him saw it. After a while, Chang Ji died. In the window of the house where he usually lives, there is smoke curling into the sky, and he can hear the sound of driving and slight music. Changji's mother quickly stopped other people's crying. After waiting for five buckets of millet, Changji finally died. Marrying Wang's sister is not the kind of person who fabricates fictional stories to describe Chang Ji. What she saw was really like this.
Alas! You Lan is high in the sky. Is there really an emperor in heaven? Does Emperor Tiandi really have Lin Yuan gardens, palaces, houses and pavilions? If so, then the heaven is so high, the emperor is so noble, and his literary talent should be more than that of people in this world. Why only care about Changji, so that he won't live long? Alas, aren't there many talented strange people in the world, not only on the earth but also in the sky? Chang Ji lived for twenty-seven years, but his position was too ordinary, and people at that time crowded out and slandered him. Is he a talented man, especially valued by the Emperor of Heaven, but not by the world? Or will people have more knowledge than the Emperor of Heaven?