The autumn wind is bleak, and the grass and trees are shaking. All things have lost their vitality and lost their former greenness and richness. Only the crystal clear dewdrops in the morning are dormant in them, dotting the last youth of their lives. A breeze blew by, bringing with it a bit of coolness. The wind rustles through the weeds, and dances across the dead leaves. Finally, it drifted towards a mountain peak that looked like a silver sword piercing the sky and disappeared.
Concept: Eastern fantasy