That swaying crystal hydrangea palace lantern,
Thousands of splendors are still flowing in the night.
In the dark,
Summoning this woman with a rough fate,
Traveling thousands of miles back to the origin of everything.
Hundreds of years of grudges,
Thousands of years of blood and tears,
Together with the everlasting promise and the roaring wind and snow,
Submerge her.
Just for a blink of an eye,
The desolate wilderness is already pale.
(This article is pseudo-finished, mainly because Xiao Ji has a new story, and there is no way to tie it up with this old story, so I have to bring it to an end and pretend to finish it... I would like to say weakly, you can also read it as a completed biography...)
Intention: