Who in this world can avoid death?
No matter how peerless your elegance, no matter if you eclipse the beauty of all under heaven, in the end, you are but a lovely skeleton. No matter if you are the pride of a generation, holding sway over vast territories, in the end, you will turn into a handful of yellow earth.
Countless ages ebb and flow, rise and fall, glory and disgrace, millions of years passing like the flick of a finger—even for those truly immortal, what then? In the end, it is merely witnessing the rise and fall of myths, leaving behind nothing but a bellyful of melancholy and grief.
The masses, no different from the heroic figures, each person is the protagonist of the heavens and earth, each one has their own unique path.
