I am not Ximen Qing.

What about your car?

“Drive to Sweetheart Bar,”

"That won't work, there's no place to park."

"Come on, have you forgotten? When you're drunk, you tell me everything, like a bunch of crazy girls abandoned you, got into an old Santana, and disappeared, leaving you all alone calling out some name. What are you trying to say?!"

“I’d say this seems a bit dangerous,”

"I love the thrill of danger! It's so exhilarating! And having a Danger makes you feel safer, doesn't it?"

"I can never recapture that feeling of driving that Santana again, that feeling of a bunch of girls dumping me. It was too fairytale-like, too romantic."

How does an older man find his daydream?

"Daydreaming is the best; go to Wangfujing and you'll find large platinum and diamond necklaces."

"A diamond ring!"

"Then a diamond ring."

The first diamond ring Zhang Sheng ever wore was bought at Shuang'an Department Store. The happiest days of Zhang Sheng and Li Yu's time together were during their entrepreneurial ventures in Zhongguancun. Thinking back to those days of making a fortune, decked out in designer brands from head to toe, this golden bachelor radiated wealth.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I want you to guess"

"It must be girls, otherwise why would you be so happy? I've never seen anyone like that before. This is the first time I've seen your genuine happiness, right?"

Zhang Sheng and his beautiful Xinjiang sister-in-law, Ya Li, were having a romantic time together in the company dormitory. Although everyone in the company knew about the disgusting scandal that had occurred there, the dormitory was truly a romantic place! The room was filled with love art, all the paintings by the sub-landlord. The cunning sub-landlord, who used to work in the artists' village near the Old Summer Palace, genuinely admired the sub-landlord's oil paintings. If there was one moment of pure joy, it was when Yu Qing secretly peeked into the sub-landlord's love nest, where all the single men were completely oblivious, driven only by curiosity.

"I look ugly now."

"What are you thinking about? This is too far off. It reminds me of Girls Dream, your dream lover. Don't be so impatient, okay?"

Bai Hua truly understands the inner workings of human nature. He subtly flirts with Zhang Sheng, whether exchanging knowing glances or glares. He comes up with a bizarre idea: park the car in the Taikoo Li underground parking lot, take a taxi to the Wangfujing shopping district, and whether it's a search for a romantic trace or not, the world makes way for insanity, not irrationality and hypocrisy. Even the resurrection of Jesus has the temptation of Satan, and even the most beautiful Buddhist scriptures have the temptation of Mara. Wangfujing's business taste is eternal. Whether it's a flowing soul or a fallen one, Wangfujing remains constant. Why love Wangfujing? I've always enjoyed shopping there. That's a question for past lives, present lives, and future Buddhas!

"This must have cost a lot of money!"

"Uncle, this is the same as bringing up the annoying topic of marriage with me. What's the difference? Money lost can be regained. Your noble qualities, Li Bai's poetic spirit—uncle, didn't you want me to paint them? They can go crazy, but why should I? I can't go crazy!"

"But this is over budget, and I don't want to use a credit card."

"Stop being so wishy-washy, don't forget tonight."

Don't worry, I'm ready.

"What are you ready for?"

"It definitely won't be any less upscale than that carnival night."

“That’s pretty much it”

"What's the matter"

"Go and repent yourself."

Bai Hua kept talking to Zhang Sheng about how she had read countless books about beauty. She explained that she bought these world-renowned luxury brands because she wanted to preserve beauty. She mentioned books like *Zen Taste*, *Zen*, *Zen Love*, *Zen Monk*, *Zen in the City*, *Zen Way*, *The Way of Painting*, *The Way of Calligraphy*, *The Way of the Qin*, and *Preserving Beauty*. Bai Hua asked Zhang Sheng, feigning seriousness, if he had read these books. Zhang Sheng suggested they check out the Wangfujing Bookstore and buy some more, but Bai Hua said the books were too heavy and suggested Zhang Sheng look at the titles she had mentioned later.

"Go to the Catholic church to repent, repent like Rousseau."

"I know where Johann Adam Schall von Bell and Giuseppe Castiglione lived; they were favorites of Emperor Kangxi and Emperor Yongzheng."

"And then there's Qianlong,"

"These are all so expensive, let's send them back to your home first."

Baihua is a shopaholic, indulging in her favorite luxury products like Burberry, Chanel, Gucci, Prada, and LV. She seems to find inspiration in these items, including insanity, cars, beauties, and yachts. But Baihua hasn't forgotten the real XO brand.

"Want some? How about opening it and taking a sip?"

"Making a fool of yourself,"

"Making a fool of yourself while drinking XO is a sign of true love."

"What for? Take it back."

"Oh, that's interesting."

"Yes, you're no longer George Bernard Shaw's flower girl; I was just using a metaphor."

"Can I leave my cosmetics, bags, and the like at your place for now?"

"Your car is too flashy."

"Just park in the underground parking lot, okay, you don't need to worry about the rest. We can freely join the whole night, a never-ending serenade."

"How about it? The March of Passionate Love!"

Upon witnessing Bai Hua's transformative change for the first time, Zhang Sheng felt an inexplicable unease about reality. The world of daydreams was always hazy and dreamlike; Night, Daydream was far more decadent and alluring. Yes, this decadent metamorphosis, this crazy love of fancy imagination, fantasy and dreams—Bai Hua was now Zhang Sheng's dream painter. Bai Hua was another version of Lyra, another Lyra the goddess. She always managed to bring Zhang Sheng something. These luxury brand products were Zhang Sheng's offering to Bai Hua as a sacrifice to his goddess. What was this? It was merely Bai Hua expressing beauty in one form. The allure of beauty wasn't just the pure, instinctive love of Eve and Adam, but also the beauty of desire.

"Stop with the 'March of Delusional Love,' do you understand now? Be bolder, be more forward, and you'll be the demon who devours ghosts."

"Alright, you're a crazy, crazy lover, old man,"

"I really don't understand how you did that."

"He is a pioneering artist"

"It's not just about artists."

Bai Hua called Zhang Sheng's empty house a castle in the wilderness, a fairytale love castle. Zhang Sheng sensed the absurdity of her words. Her true intention was to truly intoxicate him. She displayed her alluring Chanel lipstick, Dior perfume, Gucci bag, Burberry trench coat, Burberry windbreaker, and Burberry crystal shoes. She also excitedly put on that platinum diamond necklace. Passion and love, art, Passion and love fairytale castle, a castle filled with the touch of love and romance, an invisible permeation of love, Zhao Ji's passionate piano. The music is "Black Swan Dance," featuring the most sensual black swans, their graceful forms and postures. Perhaps only ballet can truly capture the beauty of this transformation. It's a pure Ovid-esque metamorphosis, similar to "A Midsummer Night's Dream," representing the highest form of love. "Song of the Roses" depicts red roses on balconies and wild roses in summer forests. The scene is filled with either white or black roses; they are goddesses in transformation, a dance of love's metamorphosis. From "Black Swan Dance" to "White Rose, Red Rose Dance," this is the disillusionment Zhao Ji has been searching for. From Mexico City to Beijing, she seems to have found a glimpse of "The Criterion of Love" in the piano—a kind of arduous exploration. Music is actually closest to the pure emptiness of superconsciousness, as described by the Tree Bodhisattva. The world is created by love!

In fact, Buddhist scriptures are the true books of desire. Tibetan lamas' understanding of Buddhist scriptures is closer to the Buddha's true meaning. So-called love is the pure beauty of love that can only be produced through asceticism. Zhao Ji's pale face is a kind of beauty, a kind of beauty that cannot be forgotten, a heart-stirring beauty that exists forever in the heart, called eternal beauty. Jane Eyre is one such heart-stirring beauty, and so is the female poet. Zhao Ji is definitely a sensual existence of this eternal beauty. This is a solo concert. Bikini girls wearing white rose masks and red rose masks, daffodils, orchids, appear in the space before us, and then disappear. Perhaps this is Zhao Ji's disillusionment. Show, fashion show and performance art show. Her oil paintings, whether in color or tone, are too passionate. Flamingos, gorgeous and passionate. Truly good art retains love and desire, an intangible instinct. Oil paintings can better show the beauty of instinct, reflecting the beauty of art. The meaning of love painting lies in its eternal significance and the existence of eternal beauty. Painting should allow beauty to collide with the imagery, visual thought, spirit, and super-stream of consciousness to create eternal beauty. Even eternal beauty is like a piano concert releasing a love sonata. The flames of love in one's heart grow ever hotter. The transcendent Lost Control, the alluring colors of rose love, the great Rose Love masquerade of Romeo and Juliet, the charm of the masked ball lies in the birth of the Rose Knight. It is dramatic and romantic. This is a creative experience. Zhao Ji explores the experience of creating pure love. The witch's illusion of love, the path of Faust and Mephistopheles' illusion of love, finding a bar filled with bar girls, a Mexican-style bar, the tequila here tastes good, authentic Mexico City taste.

They are the witches of Faust, drawn to the flame like moths to a flame, for the Rose Knight is, in essence, a lover carrying love within him. Zhao Ji's piano music possesses such loving elasticity and tension that she is lost in herself, unable to extricate herself from the eternal beauty of the illusion of love. They are Zhao Ji's rose petals, they themselves are a part of Zhao Ji's love.

"Go, go, rescue her from lost love,"

Does she have Romeo?

"No, she needs to get out of the whirlpool of love now, and he needs to get out of lost love, otherwise she will create a devastating tragedy like Helen."

Zhao Ji's flow state is immersed in her own illusion, where music is the richest release of emotions and feelings. Musical imagination is the deep blue sky and fermentation, the sky and the firmament, a dream and illusion, a Nagarjuna Bodhisattva's super-stream of consciousness, a transforming love. Without love, there is no energy, "The Fury and the Roar," Faulkner's "The Ghost of Love." Here, there are no graceful ladies like Nana, slender red rose girls, a group of pretty girls who can dance. The rose of love has thorns and brambles, but it is irresistible.

"What would you like to drink, Rose Knight?"

"Still with ice cubes, Red Bull, vodka, and energy cocktail bombs."

"How about it?"

"Ah, it's like a rose dream,"

“That’s right, this is the rose Dardream she created.”

Do you have any red roses?

"what"

"Dedicated to her"

"most?"

"I only want to offer her red roses."

"Let's go crazy and drink this bottle of vodka."

I don't want to.

"It's not that I don't want to copy my wedding's craziness. Okay, it's so amazing! Propose to her, dare you?"

"She is Zhao Ji."

"What's wrong? Becoming Don Juan in her rose-filled love?"

What about Faust?

"Go?"

Does she have Romeo?

"No. If Romeo were here, you wouldn't have had the chance to become the Rose Knight. If Romeo were here, she would become the real Juliet. How I wish it were so! You would become Romeo and wake her from her nightmare, pull her out of her dream of love. Go, fall in love with her, cling to her; she is empty."

"Love at first sight? That's too difficult, too painful."

"The fastest kind of love, you know?"

"Of course I understand."

Have you ever witnessed the fastest love?

"At the classroom weekend dance"

"It should be called an affair after midnight."

Unbelievable

"That's true, it's the same at every university; they're treating this place like a university classroom now."

"Absolutely not, absolutely not!"

"Absolutely, I believe in you."

"What"

"Stop what? Such a lovely girl, she sent you over 1 Roses. Go offer all those Roses to her, kneel down in front of her and tell her you love her."

“That won’t do! She’ll be angry,”

"Don't worry, she won't,"

"She'd better not be a hypocrite,"

"It's impossible, she's all alone. Empty love, she has no love. Sorrow, pain is pain. Her music also lacks soul. Her art cannot be without soul; without love, there are no true arts. Someone beat you to it."

"Henry"

"What lovely names, and these girls are so stylish. They're all party girls I sponsored. Go ahead and show us your crazy wedding party girl. Zhao Ji was really impressed with you. Tell her you love her."

It's not "I love you".

She needs love.

"How could she not have love? Any man who sees her will instantly turn into a rose mask. If she's going to choose the Phantom Mask, she'll only choose the Romeo Mask. Why does true love need a mask?"

"Love that came out of nowhere,"

"Yes, love came suddenly, use your eyes to bewitch her."

Zhao Ji had always sought this kind of disillusionment, the clamor and restlessness of Faurac, fantasizing about sudden love. Her heart fluttered, her love had ceased. The Roses, at least, had ignited the desire within her soul. Everything was still; in their world, only the backs of two figures remained, facing the musician playing the piano. The heavy metal of Brahms, the resounding music—who was this musician? Part of Zhao Ji's dream, the roses of love, the fragrant roses—she was the most dazzling of the roses. They sat on the flower-covered chairs in the long corridor, a soul-stirring presence. At the end of the oil painting gallery was the musician's back, the heavy metal piano music. They were Brahms's Love March leading to the dream of the roses of love, reminiscent of Beethoven and Kreutzer's sonatas, the love woven from the shifting black and white keys. Everything was still; only the flowing soul and passion of love and music remained.

Her beauty, from the moment she entered Rose House, was more alluring than anything born from the sea amidst the rose bushes. The piano music engulfed everything. She began to graffiti on the walls, all bold and avant-garde goddess-like graffiti. The oil paintings of roses and the pure color of love in reality created a kind of rose realism, comparable to Van Gogh's sunflowers. The shape of the sunflowers is too passionate. Roses and sunflowers symbolize the love between the goddess and Apollo. In fact, she herself is the most dazzling figure in the works, creating love entirely for her own existentialism. It's amazing, Wonder; she's an imaginative artist. After completing her graffiti, the woman in the oil painting is truly unfathomable, proudly releasing the allure of her love, the birth of eternal beauty, only that captivating gaze remains.

How about we grab a drink together?

Do I know you? To be precise, I'm an artist.

"Yes, yes, yes, the piano playing is excellent."

Do you love her?

"She's so captivating, she's practically devouring my soul. Is this love?"

"Mr. Painter"

You call me Mr. Painter

Zhao Ji possessed a pure and innocent beauty, a unique kind of beauty, almost reminiscent of Carmen's bohemian gypsy wildness. At Henry's wedding, Zhang Sheng was captivated and mesmerized by her pure beauty.

Zhao Ji seems to be using all of this to find inspiration in the transition from dream to disillusionment, a transition marked by profound pain. In "The Blooming of Roses," she stands quietly and upright; she is the goddess of roses, surrounded by roses, awaiting the destruction of this beauty.

I'm searching for lost love.

"That's great! Are you pursuing her?"

"She's so beautiful."

Zhao Ji was indeed incredibly beautiful. Zhang Sheng once sat briefly beside her, only drinking a few cups of Love Orchid Wine, and regretted not drinking stronger liquor with her to ignite a spark of love. This is how one describes her charm; her aura was captivating, like a ring of love, a symbol of irresistible allure. Her slender figure...

"Even if it's just a brief moment of falling in love with her, Zhao Ji is too beautiful."

The purpose of alcohol is to cloud reason, to plunge into the labyrinth of illusory love. Now, things are out of control. Zhao Feiyan and Zhao Ji seem like strangers, rejecting each other without any innate kinship, their faces pale, their eyes cold and indifferent. The balance has been shattered, and Zhao Ji's inspiration has vanished. She had always believed that pure love was paradise, but everything has become hellish, like being swallowed by a black fog. For love, one can transform into a swan, a bull, or even the black fog itself—the Europa, the Europa, and the Europa are all too cliché. Henry is very rational; his purpose is extremely clear. He only observes the alluring influence Zhao Ji has on Zhang Sheng. Love is painful; it's about kissing love amidst thorns and brambles in a rose garden.