He said to him: "I will wait for you until the fourth snow comes in the third year." He did not wait, but seemed to have seen the ending. He vaguely remembered the scene when he saw him that year, where he seemed to be an independent lotus standing at the intersection in the wind. The wind blew up his pure white clothes, but failed to blow away his peerless appearance. Countless spots of light flowed in his amber eyes, which were so light.
We cannot let go of hatred, and the memory is unbreakable.
If I were a mortal who fell in love with an elf, where would our end be?