Twenty: Happy flowers, in the hands of the God of Destiny, looking for the perfect person to give.
Twenty-one: The strings outside the window have touched my heart! How can it only be deeply wrapped in the lingering sound? It is the infinite sound of trees and the infinite light of the moon.
Twenty-two: where will you go-it was a hazy month, death-it was a gaunt fallen flower.
Twenty-three: The lamp of the soul goes out in silence and excitement.
Twenty-four: Sunflowers admit to people who have never seen Bai Lianhua that they are best friends. White lotus comes out of the water, sunflower bows its head, and graceful pride separates itself.
Twenty-five: die! Standing up and praising him is the end of silence and eternal rest.