The Four Immortals: Dark Purple | Ashes of Longing

Fifty strings on the ornate zither, each string and bridge recalling the years of youth. Zhuang Zhou’s dawn dream left him lost between himself and a butterfly; the king of Shu entrusted his longing to the cuckoo. Beneath the bright moon over the blue sea, pearls weep; in the warm sun over Lantian, jade gives off smoke. Could this feeling have been anything but a memory? Even then, it had already left me lost. Xuan Xiao... Xuan Xiao... The name was like a curse embedded in his marrow. Every time he thought of it, the pain pierced his heart. He lowered his head and saw his long hair clearly in the moonlight: the strands fell past his shoulders, pale as ashes. They were the ashes of longing. Theme: