Flying flowers fall, the world of mortals is broken, and the wind and clouds disperse once and for all
The demonic shadows are phantoms, the full moon is waning, and the gorgeous clothes are broken and the brocade will never be returned.
If there was an afterlife, she didn't know whether she would love him again. But she knew very well that she had never regretted falling in love with him. He left, not because he no longer loved her, but because he no longer needed her.
A dance in the fire, a desperate struggle.