That year under the blossoming moon, the water rippled like jade
One black and one white wander here, disappearing into the moonlight
Two incomplete souls meet, merge, merge, and become complete
The water ripples for a moment, and a short-lived flower appears, which cannot be replaced by a tree.
That demon and god, fighting with the sky, risking their lives, just to see each other again
Red maples, clouds, Paradise Palace...
Seemingly unintentional but better than intentional
After falling silent, I found that everything was surprisingly similar to what it was thousands of years ago...
On that altar in the clouds, whose blood stained half of the sky red?
The mountains and rivers are broken and you are nowhere to be seen, only white clothes are better than fire
Intention: May everything that is not recognized by time have its own destination