I am neither human nor ghost nor immortal, but I am immortal and no one can clearly define my existence.
I stand by the Wangchuan River and on the Naihe Bridge every day, delivering bowl after bowl of Wanghun Soup to the ghosts passing by, and I have spent three thousand years in a muddle-headed manner.
It wasn't until his appearance that I understood the meaning of giving away bowls of Forgettable Soup one after another.
After a long, long time, we defined meeting again as the beginning of another tragedy.