Before the seventeen-year-old wind blew through Shan Qi's shirt, he never dared to describe that thought in his heart - Lin Yi would catch his turbulent thoughts.
In his eyes, Lin Yi was always an image suspended in the moonlight, a white rose carefully raised by the gods in a crystal vat. The petals were condensed with morning dew that would never dissipate, and even her breathing carried an untouchable holiness.
But Shan Qi is obviously a straight man. He had always been sure that he was growing in the direction of the girl's heartbeat, but when facing Lin Yi, that certainty was like paper soaked in morning mist. His heartbeat should be speeding up for the figure in the white dress, but it stopped when he looked at Lin Yi.
He couldn't tell the reason, couldn't tell where this feeling came from, it was like new buds sprouting inexplicably on the branches in early spring, with an ignorant stubbornness.
He just felt that Lin Yi should be the flower of the high mountains, above all common things, with a cold attitude and a sense of alienation overlooking all living beings.
As for the rest, as for my untimely throbbing, in the face of this "naturalness", it was as light as a cloud that dared not fall to the ground.
Intention: May I be like the stars and your Lord be like the moon