Xia Zhi.
They are gardenias in the greenhouse, clean, soft, and broken when touched.
Waiting to be watered, waiting to be abandoned.
Summer solstice.
They are red roses burned in the scorching sun,
Thorny, hot, not bowing, not attached,
The wilder the wind, the harder she drove.
Once upon a time, it was summer gardenia that could be picked by anyone;
Today is the summer solstice, a phoenix rising from the flames.
Purpose: Rebirth from desperate situation, self-salvation