"... This is just a delicate and short encounter like a stamen that happened in a dream on a moonlit night. The memory of soft lips and fragrant fragrance, even if it cannot now, will one day travel to a distant place with the passage of time. I hope so. She silently raised her head next to the bookshelf of foreign literature, staring at the pure white ceiling, which was filled with pure and unpretentious spiritual words. A spring day In the afternoon, she hid in the library among the fragrant flowers to seek a kind of tranquility and comfort in life. She stood on tiptoes, with a few drops of sweat flowing on her forehead, but she could not reach the book high up. It passed through her forehead, as if the breeze was dancing, and she took down the book easily. She looked at the person who took the book in surprise, with a cold and proud face reflected in her brown eyes, like a bird of paradise. "