Rootless flower. Light as a feather, flawless, even better in cold places. Those who are not rich among flowers love to make proud plum blossoms miserable.
Thank you, mother. Wrapped in the cold wind, wearing a lonely moon, wandering around the world. The people who were killed were left with white heads and hundreds of flowers, and they lay drunk at the top of the solitary ridge.
Concept: Epic of Power