Ashes in the Snow
by It's Too Late To Leave This World And Return Home
About This Novel
Singing loudly with the sword, cutting down three thousand misty clouds; time is like wine, cutting off the loneliness of the sea. The falling snow is flying, and the sky is white. I wander around a lot, and I am covered in dust. This place was covered with moss and white snow in the past. Light ink and strong fragrance, pale blue clouds rolling up; light rain falling, drifting for half a lifetime. The flowers bloom at one thought, and fall at the other. When I look back, I only see red flowers flying all over the sky...
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