She turned to look at the winter jasmine blooming lush and golden by the river. Zhuang Banruo spoke with cool confidence: "There is nothing in this world I cannot do!" The sort of words that made you grit your teeth seemed to come to her as naturally and effortlessly as if they were simply a matter of fact.
Dominance, laid bare.
Proud, yet cool and detached.
Such words ought to have come from a seven-foot-tall man. If not, then from a woman of heroic spirit.
But she was only a sixteen-year-old girl in the bloom of youth. This aloof young woman spoke with such certainty, and somehow it suited her quiet presence perfectly. There was not the slightest hint of incongruity.
And yet, beneath that calm, untroubled exterior, there was always a pain that tugged faintly at the heart. It was not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore.
This was Zhuang Banruo:
calm and carefree, strolling through life as she danced alone.
Detached and solitary, like clouds gathering and dispersing.
I am Chi Mao. This is not my first time writing, but it is my first time posting on Jinjiang. This work is entirely original. If you repost it, please credit the source. Thank you!
