The Road to the Underworld, the Bridge of Helplessness
An emaciated old man sat silently before the Three Lives Stone, a tobacco pipe in his mouth. At the dim, lightless end of the bridge, a figure gradually approached him.
The old man took a puff and asked, "Little ghost, back again? What are you planning to write this time?"
The newcomer said nothing, staring absently at the Three Lives Stone. After half a stick of incense, he picked up the iron stylus beside him and carved a few words, then turned and left.
The old man glanced at the words on the stone, paused in surprise, then shook his head and said, "A doomed love! A doomed love!"
Four lines were carved into the stone: "My heart remains devoted, without regret; alas, our fate in love drifts with this fleeting life. The red thread cannot unite those who love; better to sever the roots of love from this day on."
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