A period of time, a period of decline. The spring breeze in the south of the Yangtze River has disappeared, and only the roses in autumn have fallen.
The wind, flowers, snow and moon laugh at the end of winter, who is drunk by the withered lamp years. The flowers in the mirror and the moon are sleepless, and the Rakshasa in the ancient temple is hidden in the world of mortals. In life, all the people are gone, but when you raise your head and smile, you will meet each other later. When the reunion should have come earlier, the laughter for a lifetime ended up in vain.