He had never been one to take major risks; Zhao Yang was, after all, mostly harmless to humans and animals alike.
Moreover, he always regarded Yingtao as a younger sister, and that's a line he couldn't cross.
Zhao Yang suddenly remembered Su Xiaoyue, the village beauty of Xinghu Village whom he had met on the bus.
Comparing the three girls, Yingtao was like a bud not yet in full bloom, emanating a raw, unripened scent all around.
Zhang Xiu'er, on the other hand, was a bewitching young matron, exuding a seductive charm with every move she made, stirring up desires more than others.
Su Xiaoyue was that girl next door, fresh and natural, like the loveliest flower blooming on the mountain, irresistibly beckoning one to pick it.
If all ties were cast aside and Zhao Yang had to choose, he wouldn't know whom to pick in that moment.
Spring orchids and autumn chrysanthemums, each excelling in their own time – that's exactly what this saying meant.
