In the corridor of the Palace of Eternal Life, who is singing a song that no one understands, and it is scattered all over the place.
Who was laughing wildly on the city wall? The intricately patterned costumes concealed the desolation in his eyes.
The young man who has traveled far away is safe and well. Can the longing that penetrates my bones go to his side?
The clothes rustled, the three-foot broken blade, and the broken scepter were just a battlefield.
The suppressed morning light, those eyes that are not allowed to be weak, are sad for whom.
Burning all the agarwood is just a wanton act.
Why should we painstakingly carve the appearance of memories on ancient scrolls of paper?
Thousands of gods gave way and did not dare to look directly at the glory.
Just to be buried in the legend in the end.
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Forgive me,
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