Thousands of years have passed since the past, and the grudges and grudges of right and wrong are nothing more than personal obsessions. The old grievances of the past life and the hatred of this life are only a few words.
He was just a child picked up in the green bamboo forest on a full moon night. He didn't know anything about grudges, but he just hoped that everything around him would be fine.
In those days of peach blossoms in January, he figured out that right and wrong, love and hate, were all just adding to troubles. After life and death, what was there to be obsessed with?
We still have to walk the road under our feet, and the peach blossoms in the mountains will bloom again. . . . . .