The Road to Immortality Is Thousands of Miles Long

Years and months are hundreds of years, washing like roots and water washing the sky and the earth. It's like the moon wind kills people, and I look back casually, but there is no one behind the mountain. Everything, everyone's love and affection, it turns out that the clouds have long since dispersed in the wind. From the beginning to the end of this thousand-mile fairy road, it turns out that I am the only one.