Seventeen-year cicadas hibernate underground for 17 years before emerging. To survive in the dark world for seventeen years for the light of that season, maybe it was for the promise of a flower, maybe for the promise of a leaf. In short, it is persistence, waiting for nirvana for a certain belief, and encountering scenery that has never been seen before. There was a poem that said: "I have also determined my destiny in Madhyamaka, and it is a song to be burdened with debts."
She was like a seventeen-year-old cicada. She had been unknown for the first seventeen years, maybe just to wait for him, or maybe he was the only one who could make her shine like the seventeen-year-old cicada.