Love as strong as gold owes its existence to poetry; sweet nothings belong in unofficial histories, while the official tales never speak of eternal love.
The jianghu is still rife with turmoil, and the mortal world remains a hopeless mess.
After vows of undying devotion over tea and wine, oaths sworn by mountains and seas are treated as nothing but jokes.
A Stroll in the Garden, a Dream that Startles: No Words Can Capture It
How many couples in bright red and green walked the earth a thousand years ago?
Adrift in a sea of suffering, longing for mandarin ducks who never die, nesting together in the present day.
With wings joined in this world, gazing at the moon and flying as one, dreams shatter, beauty fades, and tears run dry, yet regret is never spoken.
Will the sea of sin and the sky of love still be here a hundred years from now?
Who can attest to the vows made in a past life? On the Stone of Three Lives, the waves subside and fate drifts away.
The pipa laughs at me: one stream of mournful notes, three thousand original sins, a lifetime bearing a soul’s grief, shattered and scattered.
I can’t forget your gentlemanly bearing, so captivating in a thousand ways.
Don’t speak of renouncing the world and lighting a Buddha lamp.
I remember you always: your beauty burns like fire, your smile ablaze.
Don’t speak of drawing a sword to sever love and embrace solitude.
In matters of the heart, neither life nor death is the point. It has always been this way.
With a heart devoted to one, from heaven to hell, I will follow you.
