Soul-Returning Pearl

As if the spring breeze had arrived overnight, thousands upon thousands of pear blossoms burst into bloom.

In my dreams, the snow never stops falling. That faint, pure white is the everlasting pale cherry blossom in full bloom, an undying soul. Even in the instant it falls, it remains as lofty and pure as ever.

Snow falls without a sound, yet the snow in my dreams makes a tender, lingering sound as it drifts down. Listen closely, and you will find it sounds like a song of age-old loneliness.

For thousands upon millions of years, that snow has fallen quietly in my dreams, dancing with a grace found nowhere else in this world and singing an epic that moves heaven and earth in the mortal realm. Everything is just as it was on that night in ancient times, when I met him.

Love at first sight.

He was just like the person in my memory, dressed in white and blue, with ink-black hair flowing down.

A few blood-red butterflies danced gracefully over the sea at night, then faded away and shattered.

That was the butterfly's dream: serene, beautiful, and cruel.

Perhaps life, too, is but a butterfly's dream. When we awaken, we find that the love and hate once etched into our hearts were no more than water, moonlight, reflections, and flowers in a dream...