It was already three o'clock in the night, but in the deserted Mei Pavilion stood a thin woman in white, with her hands behind her back, looking up to the northwest sky. Under the bright starry sky, her eyes were wandering and blurred, revealing a trace of sadness. "The coolness of the Internet blows the light clothes, and the night is longer and the jade leaks." In this night filled with autumn thoughts, is anyone thinking about her in thousands of mountains and rivers? Did anyone dream about her?