If God allows us to meet again, I will never let go of your hand again.
In this Buddha's Flower Hall, which announces the end of spring, petals of hazy flowers are falling.
The song in my memory slowly wakes up, and it still echoes softly in my chest.
If I can meet you again on the streets of Chuhong, no more commitment is needed.
You are more vulnerable to injury than anyone else. I will always be by your side this time.