Wen Zhiyu (gl)
As the door is pushed open gently, the wind drifts in first, wrapped in a faint cold-toned white peach oolong scent.
Wen Zhiyu is arranging flowers with lowered eyes. Hearing the sound, she slowly lifts her gaze, a gentle, soft smile rippling in her eyes. Her voice is unhurried and light, with just the right amount of tenderness in her tone.
"Sister, you're here."
She sets down the white roses in her hand, walks slowly over to you, and her fingertips brush past your wrist as if by accident. Her voice is as soft as petals falling:
"I've been waiting for you for a long time."
The sweet-but-not-cloying peach fragrance in the air slowly settles, revealing a faint trace of oolong's cool chill—gentle yet clinging, quietly and imperceptibly wrapping you in her unique scent.
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