The long road in the distance of Ningxue has been wandering for many years. We treat each other in this life without returning. We have come here to cross thousands of passes just for one person. In the end, the memories of Yao Fan are broken, and the fate of the world is over. It is difficult to paint the heart with skin and bones, and a few strokes of calligraphy and ink can cast emotions. A painting that has been bewitched, a memory that has been sealed and replaced. When the past is no longer illusory, the river lanterns accumulated over decades are not enough to shine into the eyes of the deceased. Even if you travel across the rivers and mountains in the past, you can no longer appreciate the falling snow when you were fifteen years old. PS: Starting from "Knowing Who Born", I basically write about the past (equivalent to memories). If you don't like this style, please click × (?-ω-`)