At this time, a breeze blew by, and you floated over with the wind. The wind blew up your light green flowing skirt. You seemed to be the lightest and graceful fairy in the sky. Even the lotus flowers bent down to send you the most humble greetings. I kept looking at you dreamingly, and didn't even notice that my companion, who was as drunk as me, spilled wine on me.
I leaned on the bed and looked at the leaf feebly, and couldn't help but secretly wonder: It's midsummer, where did the dead leaves come from? Or is it just like me, destined to wither in the most glorious season?
Is it true that as long as a person lives in the world, he will experience endless dreams, a dream in which he never knows what will happen next and cannot be changed? Is it only through death that this dream full of sorrow can end?
Man, I'm sorry.
There is no basis for the past life, no destiny in this life, and no hope for the next life...
Intention: