Four years ago, in the southern sea.
Early in the morning, on the yacht.
A woman was dressing up in her cabin bedroom. She was wearing a nightgown with golden lace. As she combed her long brownish-red hair, she hummed the popular song "a song of the secular world" at that time.
"Whoever turned into a butterfly and became a monument, whoever waited for a thousand years, there are always dreams in the world of mortals, why ask right and wrong ..."
She was dressing up in front of the mirror and singing lightly, but the woman's face was frowning and there was a kind of bitterness accumulated.
Her reflection in the mirror was no longer young and beautiful. Although she was still elegant and dignified, she had lost her former magnificence ...
"How much frost, how much heartbreak, how much helplessness, slowly experience it, floating flowers like water, only then do you know the preciousness of the flowering period ..."
