Wang Jiao opened the dressing box and gently stroked the rows of rouge boxes with her fingers, while her eyes looked out through the window at the blue sky after the rain. It had been three years. She raised her slender hand slightly, opened the first azure box and came closer, greedily inhaling the fragrance that was no longer there. There was a familiar smell, but she couldn't remember where she had smelled it before.
Conception: