Flowers of the other shore, the sorrow of the past life; Naihe Bridge, the link of this life. Like blood, like fire, dancing in sorrow; left behind, forgotten, reborn in despair. Confused, I saw the fiery red patch ahead. Lost, I caught a glimpse of the Naihe Bridge beside me. Confusion, despair, abandonment, rebirth, we just walk like this, there is the loss of life, and the passage of time. As we walk, we realize that we have reached the end, or the soul has turned into a piece of the fiery red, or lost everything in this life and is reborn. Pluck a flower from the other side, and drink a bowl of Meng Po tea. The dark world, either leaving or returning. Flowers on the other shore, the other shore, how sad it is to be out of reach; how helpless it is to be a bridge, no matter how reluctant it is to leave it, it will be left behind. Squat down and touch the flowers on the other side; turn your head and observe the Naihe Bridge. Past life, present life, sad and despairing world, is it nostalgia? Is it discarded? Staring at the darkness of this world, leaving a drop of cold tears, or holding a trace of reluctance. All of this can only be chosen by ourselves, or we cannot choose by ourselves...