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During the Buddha's moon feast, the gate of heaven appeared, and the seven rays of light met before the beginning of the Yuan Dynasty. Crossing the barriers of the world and experiencing the vicissitudes of time. Waiting quietly, just for a trace of lingering thoughts. Is this the inevitable reincarnation of the ages, or the beginning of an eternal calculation? Three thousand white hairs turned into silk strings, and billions of withered bones built the walls; I am alone playing the piano and waiting for this, a song from ancient times and the world is cold.