A bunch of bodhisattva, a field of blood.
The quiet snow suppresses everything, and everything grows in the snow.
It's endless sorrow,
Still, it's just the hint of yellow on the branches,
Stay away from the world and watch with cold eyes.
Dressed in the guise of modern romance, the romance is long and classic, perhaps from this life to the past.
It has nothing to do with life and death, only reincarnation.
It's nonsense, don't enter if you don't like it.