Chapter 273: The Rise and Fall of Fate—What Can Be Done?

Perhaps I’ve forgotten the love of that lifetime.
Who planted peach blossoms for whom? Who longed for whom day and night? Who shed tears before the Buddha for whom?
Under the waning moon, I stood on that cliff, my lonely figure twisted and uneasy in the dark night. My robe fluttered sadly in the wind, and loneliness spread endlessly. In the sky, divine couples whispered to each other, while I could only cling to my longing amidst the twists and turns of the mortal world.
I often dreamed of those moments; memories melted away in the cycles of countless lifetimes. I imagined walking together by the turbulent sea, listening to the sorrowful songs of the world. By the Bridge of Regret, I stood still, my longing wandering in sorrow—already for a thousand years…
The Buddha said I must not love, yet I was to love everyone. I forgot his words and loved only one person. Thus, in a hundred layers of hell, I will never be freed.
In the darkness, love was burned to ashes in the flames of hell.
Above the abyss, I closed the door of compassion. For a thousand years, I gazed upward as tears flowed into my heart. I broke free from the seals of ten thousand gods and buddhas, handed over my soul to evil, and became a demon.
What can be done? It’s like the flowers of the other shore—forever separated…
It turns out, fate is so fragile…
It turns out, love is so painful…