She is a wisp of smoke, content with the situation, leisurely and lazy, just passing by, the clouds are light and the wind is clear, as light as a light smoke.
When she met him, her calm heart was filled with ripples.
He is a ripple in a pool, whether it is crystal clear or still water with deep depth; whether it is fragile or unfathomable;
Is he innocent on the outside, or is he sinister on the inside? Is he smiling and harmless, or is he as cunning as a fox?
When he meets her, can he tightly hold on to this wisp of smoke?