I don't know how many years, it seems like I have been sleeping since I was born. A dream always repeats itself. There was a garden in the dream, like the flower garden in winter, with only snow and plum blossoms. There is always a woman sitting there, her long silver hair dragging on the snow and blending in with the snow [Hey! Is silver the same as white? ! But he was wearing clothes that were different from all of them, as red as blood. [Blood and snow are homophones] Every time I touch her, the dream starts again...
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Sure enough, a trap has been opened, eh eh