In the barbaric era, you fought with your sword. Thousands of years of ancient wind wrap up a drop of clear tears in the corner of your eyes, travel through distant time and space, and come to a place full of honeysuckle. It's a pity that you are obsessed with other people's faces, and I never remember your appearance. I danced for you under the bright moonlight under the honeysuckle, and how many times during the long night did you smell the faint and astringent fragrance of the flowers. Face to face, deep affection is no match for the power of strangers. You are an angel, after all, I am just a drop of jade tears left by you.
Conception: