Ordinary Flowers, Like Scenery

She thought they were threads of fated love: One was a thread she had hoped to cherish, but the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, and the bounds of propriety, left her no way forward. So be it, so be it. One should never have connected them at all. The hatred was of her own making, and love had come at the wrong time. When she looked again, that person had died amid the chaos of war. It should not have been so, it should not. One was a thread she had meant to hold on to, but in a chaotic age, it could not withstand the manipulation, deceit, and struggle for power. It snapped, it snapped. One was a thread in which love had taken deep root, yet they kept each other at arm’s length. Only when her heart had turned cold did she think to bind them together for life. It was not too late, not too late. She struggled in the mortal world and took root amid the chaos. She thought she would live to see love bloom, but the most beautiful thing turned out to be that fleeting moment of longing for what could never be. In this chaotic world, who can protect the piece of pure jade deep in their heart?