Chapter Forty-Seven: Life, Death, Withering, and Blooming

nd of leaves rustling in the forest, why not hum a tune and stroll leisurelyCertainly, a kind of leisurely and unassuming state, it is something people yearn for.Here's the translation:Let me know if...ot escape the icy spears that rained down from heaven. Each one, like a sharpened arrow, was impossibly powerful, instantly piercing the sun into a ball of thorns!The melting of snow under the scorchi...