There are four hundred and eighty temples in the Southern Dynasty, and there are many towers in the mist. They are all alone and have been wandering for half their lives; they all have their own goals and work at every step; they understand each other, but they cannot understand themselves. All my life, I have been praying. However, as time goes by, the mountains and rivers remain the same, but the people of the old days are no longer the people of the old days. They spend their whole lives waiting for that person, but in the end they realize that life is too short. If it were longer, would they have waited for it?
Intention: Everyone is walking on the road they think is right, but when the road ends, looking back, it suddenly dawns on them. Fight for crossing, fight for crossing...