The world in dreams is always ethereal, more illusory than novels, comics and games, but it is the world I want most and is also my source of inspiration.
But one day, my source dried up...
That demon told me: I am your nightmare, you can never get rid of me...
Scattered flowers, shocked by the bright moon, illuminating a thousand miles of journey, turned out to be the person in the dream
There is no regret, no sadness, sitting alone until dusk, wearing a bloody gauze
Gratitudes and resentments, entanglement after several lives, it is just a dream, but...
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Who have we dreamed of in this life or that life?
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Some Feng's other pitfalls:
Intention: