I still recall the white lotuses, and the gentleman’s face which was akin to peach blossoms.
The beauty is unable to see clearly; thus, even if we meet, we can only engender feelings of helplessness.
I remain rooted where we first met, waiting for you to turn back, and fall in love with me.
I have always been waiting. As long as I am willing to wait, even flowers would bloom in Avīci, the lowest level of Hell.
No matter which identity you are presently using, because of me, you remain the beautiful and sweet girl who lives in the days of the past, always smiling ever so gently.
Love is simply like this – it rots in your soul and pierces your bones, unchangeable even by death.
Note: Ximalaya deleted the audiobook