The product of an overactive imagination. It's clearly a very serious piece, but somehow I, Xiaoyu, still managed to... Ahem.
The inspiration for Chapter One: "Flame Dance" by Zhou Xiaofeng
[A moth, its wings scorched by candlelight, fell onto the page I was reading. It landed on the line where the heroine was beginning to fall into love's trap. With one wing badly damaged, it crawled slowly toward the upper right corner, moving across a few words before it stopped struggling. Motionless, it recalled its ugly childhood: back then, its dream had been to fly, for only in flight could it find the lightness and beauty of absolute freedom. "Then I fell in love," I heard the moth whisper sweetly as it died. "I know I didn't keep my wings still in the darkness, as reason would have told me to."]
Theme:
