The world had changed, become strange and unfamiliar.
That night, spring grasses spread one after another, and wild bamboo wound around the fences. Her clear song drifted through the air, graceful and ethereal.
That night, the rain fell thick and fine, mist curling in the air. His long sigh was hoarse with helplessness.
Geese crossed the long river, their shadows trailing the sinking sun. The late autumn wind howled, but the fire still burned.
I left home and went to my home.
Bright red blood fell, drop by drop, gradually blending into the damp earth without a trace.
Did my origins, those old grudges and new hatreds,
really matter so much?
The yellowed letter went up in flames, burning away along with the dust accumulated over more than a decade.
I will follow in her footsteps...
