The disciple knew that he was the Master, and should have only had admiring thoughts, but in the end he became panic-stricken and did not know why, so he tossed around day and night, thinking about the morning and evening, but could not sleep. In the dream, I still saw the voice and the face. When I woke up, I was alone with my pillow and a cold quilt. The disciple offered the Master crape myrtle flowers several times, but there was no response, so I boldly expressed my love to him. I don't know what the Master has in mind. Can this explain the disciple's love in this life?