He is so beautiful, with picturesque features, just a gentle glance,
She couldn't help but be addicted to his eyes.
When I first met him, crape myrtle flowers were flying all over the sky, like a dream;
When she said goodbye to him, she was wearing a fiery red cloak embroidered with phoenixes, and the sword in her hand was dripping with dark red blood;
She killed him, but found that she could not extricate herself from his love;
Heartache? As a flower demon, there is no heartache. How could she feel pain?