On a clear, chilly early-spring day, she saw the first faint glimmer of light in her life. To her, he was like the light she desperately wanted to grasp before breaking free of her cocoon and becoming a butterfly.
On another day, in the first pale glow of dawn, she too saw that hazy light. The instant she saw him, she knew he would change the course of her life. If she wanted to fly, he would be her blazing sun.
He wore white and carried a purple sword. Handsome and refined, humble and elegant, his eyes were as intoxicating and unfathomable as a deep spring.
She said, “If I wake up and don't see him, I'll definitely cry.”
But she also said, “We are all people who live amid lies and betrayal. You, though, never want to admit it.”
Everything was like mist in the mountains. Whether it was a torrential rain of blood or a cruel massacre, it was all no more than an illusion. When the sun shone down, it would all eventually fade away...
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