There are mandrills in the mountains and immortals in the clouds.
It was Xijing who took the wrong path and walked into a dream of ten days of reincarnation.
The girl hugging her knees and sleeping on the strange rocks by the pool, the big tree with no annual rings, the calling bee that can find its way back no matter how far it is, the witch who blooms with a blue orchid every step in the moonlight. In a strange dream, he saw where he was going.
Very far away from them. Xijing will never learn the kind of desperate love that fills this mountain. Even though he wanted to open his arms to support the girl and let her warm and empty eyes shine for a moment. His young love lasted only ten days.
Shiri Mountain is a solid mountain. The rain is solid and the light is solid. It has been gone for years and there will never be a return date.
Someone is playing the flute, on the top of the mountain, in the clouds. Tokayama belongs to them, it is a painting he made by splashing ink on Jiutian. He smiled and kissed the lover who should have disappeared long ago. He gently helped her pull up her long hair and saw that her tender yellow eyes were full of confusion and strangeness. She doesn't even remember who he is, but she remembers the time she sang in the clouds. He built a mountain for her, and gave her a name. There were only mornings and evenings, and years and years.
Everything seems to be still there, everything seems to have disappeared.
There is warm jade in Lantian, and butterflies appear in dreams.