Ophiopogon japonicus was born in front of the steps, not competing for superiority, but silently taking root in every inch of the gap. It lowered its head to gather strength when the frost and snow were pressing on it, and raised its head when the morning light poured in to grow. She never asked about fate, she only asked herself: When the light falls, have I grown up to be able to bear it?
Zhou Qingan stood on the steps, his body was like bluestone, his coldness was the armor, and his power was the standard. He controlled the rules, but was also trapped by them. When the reverberation of fate fell, he ushered in his own judgment.
She is not his vassal, he is her trial. When the blade of grass touches the stone surface, it is not surrender, but awakening - awakening the heart under the bluestone that once wanted to break the ground.
Intention: Find the direction of your heart in the bustling fog