One woman, many women, I can't see clearly whether my love has color. . . . . . . .
The flowers are not flowers, the mist is not mist, the fate is played by love, it seems that the past is a mistake
Meeting you is my lifelong fault. In fact, I hate you, but I will not leave you unless you die. . . . .
I hate you, you ruined all my life when I met you. . . . . .
I hate you too, but I want you to stay. Why did you walk away after you deceived my feelings? . . . . . .