Twin flowers, two flowers bloom, one is in full bloom and the other is withered.
Maybe we should have rubbed shoulders when we first met, maybe we shouldn't have known each other in the first place.
Is it too late to regret now? Is there still a chance to retreat now?
Ahead, there are waves of confusion; behind, there is a sea of blood.
The existence of ink is not a sin, and the appearance of the moon is not a sin.
Let's keep going like this in the future.