Many years later, I remembered the story he told me again.
He said it was a story like a plum blossom, because it bloomed in the wrong season and could only die alone in the snow. When he said this, he looked up at the blue sky, and he didn't know who he was thinking of.
But I think this is a story about tigers.
The tiger in people's hearts is like wildfire, like the tip of a knife, and like a bottomless desert well.
It is entrenched in the royal city in the distance,
No one has ever been safe from its claws.
Each of us is a ghost wandering in the world.
Conception: