On a mountain peak, plum blossoms are scorching, and the snow is white. Is it an accident? It's still fate.
A teahouse in the forest, shaded by green bamboos. Leaning against the window, listening to the rain, and watching the world of mortals.
Overnight, the red fire was dazzling. The phoenix is like blood, and it brings back so many past and present lives.
Overnight, all the red plum trees on the peak fell. The remaining red color is like blood, but only the fragrance remains the same...
The plum blossoms are broken and the heart is broken. Snow falls, thoughts fall.
Forgot? No, this cannot be forgotten. Even though there are no branches and leaves, the root is still deeply rooted in the soil.
Lost for thousands of years, when will we look after each other...