Time is something that passes by you and me but is not easily noticed.
She controls every minute and every second of the world, ignoring the laws of survival in this world. Time turns and moves at the snap of her fingers. Her name is Mo Shao, she is time, and time is also her.
After surviving for tens of thousands of days, she no longer remembers what happiness and pain are. Her emotions have been wiped out in these long years. Taste and pain are just meaningless terms to her. She has only seen tears on other people's faces.
She came to a house that looked very ancient on the outside, but was actually a labyrinth inside. She was the owner and manager of this place. Most of the tenants here were not human like her. Even if they were human, they were aliens in the eyes of their own race.
But perhaps because of these reasons, she unconsciously developed a liking for them, and she didn't even notice that her every word and deed began to contain a trace of concern.
A gust of wind blew by, tugging at her long, nearly transparent sea-blue hair. She turned around and disappeared, leaving no traces as if she had never appeared before. But after a blink of an eye, she reappeared, quietly staring into the distance as if nothing had happened.
She is time, she walks around us, but we have never noticed her existence.