This is a very ordinary story, it can be as simple as just knowing the wind and moon. This is another silent drama that can end with a bang.
The flowers are in full bloom, changing from day to night, and the red spring mud falls, decaying and reborn.
"Do you understand me? Do I understand you, ah, Mo Qinhen?"
"Can you change this world? The world of cannibalism."
"Change the world, hey, who knows, if you don't seek a paradise, how can you know the truth?"
"Do you believe that you can die if you hear the Tao in the morning? It's a hopeless Tao."
"Walking in the high mountains, Mr. Qi is willing to try it himself."
"Do you believe in fate? Ridiculous assertion."
"Believe it or not, I, Yin Ruoxi, only know that my life will last only a hundred years."
"Are you looking forward to the next life? There is my next life."
"... But I don't believe in the afterlife."
The gaps between the leaves cannot hide the chirping of birds, the thoughts in the window, the familiar stories and the people in the dream, like the oncoming moist and sticky wind.
Intention: People who are self-destructive will always have a way to persevere.