The thick night covered the young man's snow-white neck, and he looked up at the round moon in the sky alone. The wind blew his companions in, ruffling his hair and floating his clothes, making his thin figure look inexplicably firm.
"Why don't you come to me?" He murmured, looking at the moon without blinking, as if he could see the shadow of another person through the orange light.
The full moon contains all the desolate stories, desolate lives and lonely travelers, so it quietly projects a bunch of comforting dust, dancing around the young man's side in the bright moonlight - as if one after another endures the heartache: "He will come, he will come."
The boy's eyes were dark and light, paranoid, stubborn, and eager, like the twisted and clean pupils of a terrifying ghost. Looking at plum blossoms to quench thirst will only encourage greed. After all, the full moon cannot reflect the body of your sweetheart.
The boy didn't blink for a long time. The dry air licked his fragile eyeballs, finally forcing a series of tears. The owner's uneasiness flashed across his eyes, while the corners of his lips could not help but curl up in a tiny arc——
"Since you refuse to come to me, let me come to find you instead."
Intention: What's yours will eventually be yours, no matter how much you try to keep it, it's useless.