The breeze blew, and the cherry blossoms flying in the sky were stained by the bright red liquid that filled the air under the shadow of the sword. The original pink color looked even brighter in the sunlight. The cherry blossoms broke in response to bursts of diffuse sword energy, and turned into half cherry blossoms, falling vertically on the dark land. Amidst the frantic footsteps and shocks, he was buried deep in the soil and ended his short but vivid life. People are like cherry blossoms that bloom at the right time, disappear in troubled times, and finally return to dust without leaving any trace.