The call from the abandoned printing and dyeing factory, the half-open azure curtain of temptation.
Pulled apart, whose half life is it?
The helplessness of another world, the forbidden past.
Weaved with warp and weft, is it a blessing or a misfortune?
When I return to the road ahead, the color turns from dark to light, and all the vicissitudes of life are gone.
Since the beginning, I have looked at the vast empire, and it has been dyed with fifty branches of beauty.