"That year, by the vast Baguio Pond, the lotus flowers were burning, and she was dressed in rich clothes. Her eyes were full of blood and tears, and in front of the man she loved, she resolutely jumped off the nine-layered Zhuxian Platform."
Indulging in the Peach Blossom Valley, fascinated by the flowers filling the building, I still choked with sobs in the sound of the flute. Memories of parting, telling of lovesickness, laughing and chatting for eternity. It is said that he was young and deeply affectionate. Who knows how sincere he is? Unexpectedly, youth is fading every year, gray hair is prone to tears and it is difficult to shed tears. It's not that I don't love, it's not that I don't worry. The bead curtain is rolled up, the light and shadow are heavy and the beams are dark, and he says: Under the peach blossom tree, there are three lives and three generations of stones. The fragrance of a hundred miles lingers on the forehead, and the red lips are opened to cry and dream of knowing each other.
She was originally reincarnated as a god and had a noble body, but because of his betrayal, she was willing to become ashes. However, she got to know him, her favorite - the immortal Mo Li.
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In the love of a thousand generations, whoever forgets the past will always care about you. The blooming of flowers is destiny, and the falling of flowers is calamity. I tear off the entangled red threads. In order not to meet you again, it's okay to forget my past.