You stand on the bridge and look at the scenery, and the people watching the scenery stand upstairs and look at you.
Xuanxuan thought her name was Xuanxuan, she thought the beautiful tree beside her was the one who had been with her the longest, she thought her best friend was this female ghost who loved to cry and giggle, and her old enemy was the little monk in the Taoist temple halfway up the mountain...
Until one day, the little monk said to her