A talented poet once chanted "Life is like a dream", and I, who was ignorant at the time and was immersed in cultivating immortality, blindly agreed.
A hundred years ago, a glimpse of the forbidden area behind the mountain, you are my uncle, who am I to you?
A hundred years later, you are bound to the whirlpool of the East China Sea. You are my lover. Who am I to you?
Even if the phoenix flower I climbed for you withers, will you still keep it?
I have collected all the pain in my body for you. Even though it has passed away, will you still remember it?
We, who is whose?
Who said life is like a dream?
But I only know that every conversation, every look, and every memory I have with you are pure and beautiful wines worth collecting.
Conception: