The Wind Blows Like Flowers Like Snow

On the first day of my death, the woman he held in his heart happened to come to visit me at home. They exchanged glasses in the small courtyard I personally decorated, drank the wine I brewed myself, and used the wine utensils I carefully crafted. The beautiful and dignified young lady, with a strand of black hair wrapped around her fingertips, asked him with a smile: "Aren't you worried about Sister Xi'er?" His eyes were calm: "Guo Xi is very well now." I just thought it was funny. Yeah, that's great, I'm already dead. Intention: None