That day, the mountains were ablaze with peach blossoms, radiant as rosy clouds, their delicate pink like the blush on a maiden's cheeks.
Raindrops fell like beads, as slender as cow hair, slanting onto the petals of the peach blossoms, turning them into something exquisite.
The spring breeze, like a lover's breath, gently blew the curtain of rain into a light misty veil.
Bai Suqing's delicate figure stood under the mist-engulfed peach trees, dressed in white, her beautiful features shining as brightly as the rain-soaked blossoms.
Natural enemies always harbor an innate enmity in their blood. It's a matter of life and death; the crane and the serpent are just such ancient adversaries.
But that day, Yi Jiao couldn't muster any hint of hatred towards his natural enemy.
A pile of greenstones, a handsome youth, a robe as cool as ice.
Yi Jiao gazed silently at Bai Suqing, her hairpin drenched by the spring rain, quietly observing the crystal-clear droplets on her long eyelashes.
