On Yandang Mountain, the setting sun is like blood.
It's the spring equinox, but it's chilly in the mountains.
A gust of wind blew by, and the pear blossoms all over the mountain were moved by it, and they fell one after another, as if a heavy snow had fallen.
Ouyang Che stood alone on the top of Yandang Palace, silent. The pair of eyes that were originally like stars are now staring blankly at the petals floating in the sky.
The white clothes he wore when he arrived were already soaked and dyed with blood.