For an unknown period of time, Luo Chenning had been trying to convince herself that it was chance that brought her here.
In her previous life, she was a dead tree - using a blade to mark the end of 20 years.
In this world, she is a pretty flower - lying drunk in the spring breeze of March
Reciting old songs, three thousand feet of mortal world is just a drunken dream and death
Swords and flowers are flying, old friends are here, and their footprints are no longer floating shadows