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Immortals talk about reincarnation when they think about it, and mortals talk about immortality when they drink wine; Red and pink are like butterflies, and dreams are like true wishes returning to dust...

All living beings fear me, hate me, are jealous of me, curse me, saying that I am not worthy of being an immortal, let alone a demon. In fact, they don't know that I am just an umbrella holder waiting for reincarnation...