A lonely soul wanders in the world, a beautiful face and white bones clinging to the skin.
She has been dead for three hundred years and has been replaced by twelve hundred skins. But he never remembers what he died for and what he lived for.
Beauty ghost, painted skin.
She wanders around the world, sees through the grudges and hatreds, and takes people's lives and skins with the sound of a flute.
His lotus steps are like flowers, his white clothes are graceful and mundane, and he has a shallow love, a weak love, and eternal sadomasochism.
The harmony of purity and peace, the love of the end of the valley.
The infatuated love that goes up to the poor blue and falls to the underworld, the ruthless love that lasts for the lifetime of the glass and the lifetime of sorrow.
He has experienced love, hate and separation in two lives. Someone told him that if the Jialuo flower dies and all his beloved ones die, he will return. He wanted to protect her carefully, but he smashed her into pieces again, leaving her covered with bruises.
In the cave of Yeting Lake, she trembled and shrank in his arms, tightly holding the soaked skirt of his chest with her little hands and crying out of breath.
"Just once, just allow me to be arrogant this time."
With trembling tongues, they slid across each other's cold lips, but tears fell down their faces, burning their hearts.
Voiceover: Well, this is a bit of a sadistic article.
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