She is handsome and dashing. People always say she is as gentle and warm as jade.
She smiles and says nothing.
He is peerlessly beautiful. People always say he is as pretty as a woman.
He roars, and everyone gives him a wide berth.
She says, "I don't mind him growing wings, and I don't mind him wanting to fly away. If that's what he wants, I won't stand in his way."
He says, "If growing wings means leaving her, I'd rather tear them off with my own hands, even if it leaves flesh and blood behind."
The impossibly handsome young master was her confidant, yet they met again in prison, no longer recognizing the one they once sat with beneath the moon.
The scruffy, clever beggar was both her teacher and her friend, yet in the end, they stood on opposite sides of a war between two nations, and he smiled for love as he gave up their friendship.
All these people passed through her life like smoke. All she could do was remember the days they had shared drinks and laughter as kindred spirits.
