Because he never knew that an actor's life, inside and outside the theater, is a world.
Your beauty is gone, but your heart is still there. Three thousand rains fell that year. On the Hungry Ghost Festival, the one sitting on that chair was you with the same facial features?
The sadness on the small stage was as deep as the sea. He stayed outside the play to break down the story and arranged it deliberately. He stayed at the end of the play, waiting for the king to return.
His temples are white, but he remains the same.
Rouge turns into dust, thousands of tears flow, we look at each other without words, life and death are speechless.
The actor is at the end of the world, and his last play is like a scorching peach.
The love on the small stage is as deep as a dream. He put the story together outside the theater and deliberately remembered it. He stood at the head of the stage and waited for his soul to return.