White-Haired Angel in the World

Thump. The glistening moonlight reflected on the lake is no longer calm. Wow. The calm lake surface is now full of waves. Thin and trivial. The still reflection moved like a whirlwind. Tear. A strip of cloth was left on an otherwise empty branch. Alas. What just happened disappeared like a mirage. Everything is calm. Except for the remaining ribbons on the branches, which are as thin as silk and can be penetrated by the moonlight, they are still fluttering in the Yang wind. . . . . . . This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.