Nine-Color Lotus

On the top of Kunlun, there is a jade that took shape for a hundred thousand years and became a god in one day. Her name is Jiu Yao. She has a lotus with nine petals, one petal and one color, one color and one calamity. Wherever the brilliance reaches, dead trees become spring, dead stars rekindle, they can give birth to all things, but they can also be overthrown by a single thought, and the stars and rivers become extinct, destroying all things. There is never a shortage of people around her—— Someone guarded the stars in the cold night for her, for tens of thousands of years, and guarded the time as an obsession: I guarded you for thousands of years, not to see your Nine-Colored Lotus disappear and be buried with the common people. A phoenix came from the fire and passed into nirvana nine times just to rest on her shoulder: I burned all the wasteland just to be the hottest light in your lotus pond. There was someone who was as silent as a mountain and never spoke of love, but he protected her from all the hardships for thousands of years: he never said "he is", but every time she looked back, he was in the shadow. There was someone who stayed by her side shamelessly, unable to drive me away, and refused to retreat with scoldings: When you drove me away, I took half a step and then stepped back. Kunlun is too cold, I have to use your light. Some people only have a startling glance, and their hearts are lost. From then on, they are content to never recover: Love at first sight is too light, what I want is - your nine colors have dispersed, and I am still your last piece of light. They were supposed to be the most carefree gods in the world, trampling on the stars, traveling across the universe, watching the eternal night as if they were running horses. But the proximity of some people is an unavoidable disaster in life. The petals of the nine-color lotus were stained with blood, the memories were broken, and reincarnations were turned. They were exiled in the three thousand worlds and became the most familiar strangers to each other. But it doesn't matter. Even if we forget our names, faces, or the starry sky we once saw side by side—the curse in our blood will remember it for us. The Kunlun jade is broken, and the nine-color lotus withers. When that little