“娥，你感受到了吗，刚刚那是...”

“羲后...似乎是...那种力量！”

“嗯...”

“羲后...陛下他...”

“他已经死了，并且不会再回来。”

“可是太一...”

“太一...随他去...”

“唉...”

...

雨丝如剑垂下，春天的绵绵，滋润着大地，打得刚刚露出芽儿的嫩绿，抬不起头。