That day, Zhou Honghua completed the first and last flight in her life, a magnificent flight. She jumped gently from the ninth floor like a performance, and the audience included teachers, policemen, and students--of course, including students like me. That day she wore a snow-white dress without any color. Her posture in the air is beautiful, almost perfect, better than any outstanding actor. The wind must have been whispering gently in her ears, and I even saw the pure smile on her face. Her white butterfly flew freely and freely in the air. She seemed to have been flying in the air for thousands of years. When she landed gently on the smooth cement floor, the melting blood slowly walked out of her body, and the blood finally turned into an extremely beautiful red flower on her body, and Zhou Honghua, who was wearing a white skirt, was a white butterfly that landed on those extremely beautiful red flowers.