183 Leng Yue Striker*172 Oriental Muse
The rainy season in London is endless and long, like an old dream that never wakes up.
Shen Jizhou is a cool moonlight on the green field. He wears a black and white jersey and has skin as thin as a blade. One look can freeze the evening breeze on the banks of the Thames. Wen Yi, the oriental muse of the art department, stood at a height of 172 and stood in the dark of the exhibition hall, where she found half a volume of unsigned Korean silent dramas.
The two moons hang in the same starry sky, making beautiful photos of each other, but never saying anything.
Outsiders only think of a well-matched marriage between a wealthy family, which is decent and well-proportioned.
Only those Fa Xiao, who have been watching everything since childhood, remained silent.
They had seen Shen Jizhou lower his head, burying his face into Wen Yi's neck, muttering that he was tired from training; they had seen Wen Yi curl up in his arms, like a cat that had taken off all its guard, with red eyes because of the delayed good night.
Childhood sweetheart, ever since she tiptoed her favorite candy into his palm when she was five years old, his moonlight only shone on her.
"They all thought the moon was never open"
"But my moon only rises for me."
Intention: In an evenly matched love, let go of all defenses and be your truest, softest self. True happiness is not the moonlight that is out of reach, but someone who is willing to put away all their sharp edges for you and give you unique preference and healing in every ordinary day and night.