That day, the setting sun was like blood;
The twelve-year-old girl looked up at the boy in red with clear eyes;
"Do you want revenge?"
From then on, there was no Luo Bing in the world, only Leng Ling.
That year, spring was warm and flowers were blooming;
A young man dressed in white stood under the moonlight, his eyes as gentle as water;
"A Ling." He called softly, his voice reverberating like a song.
A fateful song is finally sung,
The truth holds a heart-wrenching sorrow.
Who is strumming the strings under the moonlight, still remembering the past like smoke;
Who is gazing at the bright spring day with a smile like water;
Who was turned into ashes in the mortal world?
Him and her, or him and her,
Finally, they drifted away in this turmoil.