I raised up the withered branches and fallen branches, and the dead iron orchid flowers fell on my shoulders one after another. They fell on my Moon Burial Sword with the desert wind and sand, which was stained with the blood of my mother and Zilan. Behind me, the moon-singing sword seemed to be crying quietly. I seemed to have seen my father waving the moon-burial in the desert. It was still so clear. Under my father's old face, I just waited quietly. Orchids flew in the sky with the strong wind of the desert, and landed on the two swords full of killing.
The sword is covered with fluttering flowers. . . . . .
This is such a heartbreaking picture. Where are these killers going in this troubled world? There are grievances and wars everywhere, the country is in turmoil, the people are in dire straits, and the love between children is long, but they cannot be freed from the fetters of fate. There is only a thin line between life and death. Asking who is in charge of the ups and downs of the vast earth at present, I know that destiny has its own destiny.
What is the fate of these political puppets and killers and their pursuit of being number one in the world like the bright moon shining on the earth!
What exactly is Burying Flowers and Bright Moon? Funeral flowers? Just bury the flowers and the bright moon? That's right, two flowers in full bloom died at the most beautiful time. To be like the bright moon. And so it became history. No one knows.
