He looks like ice
Her face is like a peach blossom
When we first met, he spoke very little
She smiles brightly
Is the encounter by chance or fate?
Is falling in love destined or an accident?
Time goes by
The flame between her brows burns brightly
The blood feud she bears
The responsibility he carries
Recalling the past, poetic and picturesque
Love, hate, and entanglement...