My black hair turned to white hair, and in just an instant, my whole life passed.
Black hair, love silk, only the unresolved resentment.
This resentment has lingered for thousands of years and turned into a puff of smoke.
In the lonely shadow, who am I?
For half a lifetime, who am I to turn into smoke;
In this life, who am I? My hair is like snow.
Conception: