The fairy mouse waits for the darkness, the moth waits for the light, both spirits are transformed, and strange desires arise. Observing the unity of life and wanting to be strange, each will live according to the prescription. The floating scenery of Linghuo smoke goes to the bright light of Xiyan. He pulled himself up under the grass and died in this hall. I'm scorning death to invite virtue, but if it's rotten, it won't hurt...
——Bao Zhao's "Moth Ode"
He didn't expect to see her again, let alone that when he saw her again, all he saw was her cold eyes.
Conception: