The eyes intertwined for a moment, the trajectories overlapped in an instant, and the scales of the butterflies were flying in the wind.
Their meeting, together with the flowers, grass, fish, butterfly, mountain, dianthus and bamboo forest in the Snow Fragrance Garden, everything seems to be a certain fate.
Fate has carved palm prints on the hands, and the world says: the outcome has already been determined. However, variables and fixed numbers, how can anyone have the final say?
(Short story, please enter with caution, please bring your own lightning rod)
Intention: