Someone once said, I dreamt of a butterfly one afternoon and when I awoke, I did not know whether I was the butterfly or the butterfly was me. While I’ve known you, I felt that. Was I a ghost who’d become a human for a brief moment? Or a human turned ghost? It was enough to make me forget, and time flowed by like a dream. I felt happy spirits happily, and sad spirits sadly—living as a human was quite moving. Thank you for holding me dear. Thank you for allowing me to live with that dear heart. Just as the cold wind wipes away the spot where the moon grows dark, the place where I was will also disappear. But I won’t ask you to forget me. Please remember the name Arang. Magistrate, I love you.