I don't know what's going on.

In the night-sweeting wine hall, Jane changed her uniform, changed her to a close-knit dress, and she met a long-lost swordsman, who stood by the window cold-faced face, who was bold enough to come near, stretching out her collars, breathing almost to the ear, and then crossing the line in the middle of a dark room, with her eyes close to each other, and her hands sliding from the back to the back, and her ears were sorely red, she was still holding on.