This is a story whose ending was decided before it even began...
Because from the very start, they were already dead...
What can the dead, those who cannot live, do to make it as though none of this had ever happened? How can they once again hear the whisper from the cliff: "The days are waning, the days are waning. Why do you not return?"
Return, return, the heartbroken cry like a cuckoo's song.
Cruelly, we ask what age this world is in; tears run dry and turn to blood as we call in vain.
The cuckoo cries, the cuckoo cries, the moon hangs cold over the desolate woods, the scene bleak and dim.
The moon is cold, the wind bleak; we weep until our tears are spent. We call your soul to return, but to no avail.
The wind is bleak, the wind is bleak; I pity you, whose short life met such calamity.
If the underworld allows us to become spirits bound by love, let us be buried together beneath the brilliant blossoms of the joyous tree.
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Premise:
The ending is doomed from the beginning. The dead are dead, and the living are the saddest. Seeing the tragic death of her loved ones with her own eyes, Xiao Xi will eventually embark on a path of no return...