Chasing the Lotus

“I kept falling through this world,

and you reached out and caught me. You didn't tell me to run toward the sun.

You asked me

‘Would you try seeing the world anew with me, or should I walk with you all the way to the end?’

I hate this world so much, but for you, I'm willing to drop anchor.”

-

“Autumn shadows linger; frost falls late. The withered lotus remains, listening to the rain.” A lazy voice recited the poem that had haunted Song He for years, at ease and unhurried. A faint smile mingled with his affection, leaving traces at the corners of his eyes, along his brows, and across his lips and cheeks. His tender feelings were wrapped in a somber voice. “I don't think you're a withered lotus, plucked from the Red Chamber. But if you're certain you are, then I want to tell you one more thing, ”

“Within a lonely pond, a slender, withered branch remains. Frost pursues its fragrant soul, imprisoning it behind curved rails.”

It was as if her heart had been lifted up, floating in midair with nowhere to land. Warm currents welled up inside her. Her throat moved helplessly, Song He's eyes grew hot, and an ocean boiled within her.

She heard his voice rise above the piano music in the vast restaurant. A soft veil wrapped around the two of them, and his every word echoed through her world: “Even if you're destined to wither, I will follow you without hesitation.”

-

One pair of eyes was misted with tears, blurred by shimmering droplets; the other held the darkness of a black pagoda, the depths of the universe.

She didn't see the smile in his eyes.

A profound ache spilled through the cracks in his heart and spoke through his eyes. He was listening.

They were alike. She only realized it belatedly, starting with that book, The Plague.

‘Love fiercely or die together. There is no other way out.’

-

Fragile heiress × fake playboy, secretly a devoted second-generation heir