What the previous memories were like was no longer very clear to Miao Yun. If you try to recall, the incomplete impressions will form a picture of fresh, timeless and elegant purple. It is an illusion of distant mountains and seas, a sea of three thousand breasts intertwining light and shadow. It's a lotus flower with its stems open, swaying closer and farther away. The lotus petals with dim fragrance are scattered in a pool of waves.
The flowers and snow were flying, and her amber eyes were clear and crystal clear, a color that had never been stained by the world. Thousands of years of practice, hundreds of lives of reincarnation. Miao Yun unconsciously stretched out his right hand to touch the Ruyi Pearl on his left wrist. The spiritual light glowing with fine golden light appeared and disappeared, accompanied by the Sanskrit sound, and then cycled again. Suddenly, as if lost in time, he turned slightly, his clothes and belt fluttering, gradually drifting away, gradually entering the world of mortals.
Behind me, flowers bloom, and then they fade.