Another farewell ceremony was underway.
A young girl, stepping on broken moonlight, wove a garland of parting by the riverbank.
Ancient laments crystallized in the cold air, while the quiet river flowed into a distant land of blossoms.
Blood-stained scrolls, rusted long swords, handkerchiefs embroidered with poetry... She accepted their remains, along with the tales of their lives.
"My eyes are like lenses, forever longing for the starry sky."
—An epitaph dedicated to the departed scholar.
"For life and for death, the knight grants only a cold glance."
—The maxim that the nameless warrior upheld all his life.
"Life is nothing but death, aglow with shimmering light."
—The final verse penned by the eternal-seeking poet with his life.
...
"Every flower once bloomed with pride..."
Accompanied by the river's soft lament, she offered the departed poems, garlands, and remembrances—
"If withering is inevitable, at least let our farewell be... a little more beautiful."