I still remember the stamens of the Youhuo flower that looked like vomiting but shy at that time. Every petal of this plant growing by the snow pond was as hazy as a dream. The stamens gathered together are warmer and smoother than any kind of top-quality mutton-fat white jade in the world. The tip of the stamens has a touch of red, which penetrates into the petals like silk. It is more beautiful than my delicate red lips, and more charming than the smoky eyes of anyone in the Fox tribe.
My destiny was to quietly open my eyes when all the flower essences, big and small, were pouring out their beauty and fragrance.