Tired Travelers from the End of the World, Withered Trees and Flying Canopies

I stand here waiting quietly, just want to tell you a story. Love is not cause and effect, fate determines life and death. Life is like a dream, but after countless winds and rains, I become a tired guest at the end of the world, leaning against the sparse curtain and the moon, accompanied by the dead trees flying, watching the red leaves in the wind, carrying a pot to boil wine.