Three hundred years ago, I was a little flower that no one cared about.
Three hundred years later, I am still a little flower that no one cares about.
When the flowers and plants around me began to cultivate their appearance, I began to regret it a little.
Is it really so good to be a god?
I'm lazy, I'm lazy, but what can I do?
Why do all the flowers and plants around me cultivate immortality?
What's so good about being a fairy?
I don't understand. . .