Bodhi Snow

Back then, when she loved him, he replied with cold indifference: “That is your mortal world. What has it to do with me?”

Years later, she had forgotten him, and forgotten that she had ever loved him. Smiling, she asked him, “Bilu Buddha, could it be that you have begun to yearn for the mortal world?”

He lowered his eyes. The indifference in them was gone, replaced by an obsession so deep it consumed him. How can I tell you that I have come to yearn for that scene in the mortal world that belongs to you?

Once, he loved the whole world, yet refused to give even a little more of that love to anyone.

Qing Qin spent a thousand years in hell, witnessing the love, death, and partings of the world. If love could endure through three lifetimes without fading, it would surely bear fruit. But she could not understand why it was no longer so when it came to her.

The ink is still wet, the painting unfinished. Who put brush to paper in such haste? Everything was forgotten, including who waited until the seas became mulberry fields.

Qing Qin's earliest memory was of the River of Oblivion. At the time, a crowd of ghosts was hurrying across the Bridge of Helplessness to be reincarnated. When she emerged from the river, drenched from head to toe, she gave the ghost guards quite a scare. After that, Qing Qin became someone whose very name made the ghosts of the underworld tremble.