Love is like a glass of wine, he is not good at drinking it;
Love is like a dream, he doesn't like to dream;
He loves the light, he admires the sword, he loves the river fire and the firefly, and he loves the sword spirit.
He hates water, he hates dirt, he hates the drizzle, and he hates filth.
And that year, he knelt in the rain outside the porch for five days and four nights.
He gave up the light, abandoned the sword, and threw himself into the shadows, but the scorching phoenix fire illuminated his whole world.
He refused to drink the toast, so he got a drink as a penalty.
He was awake, but awake and dreaming.