[ Petals of yellow and white circle and dance around Jing Yuan as he steps in, the warmth of the late spring breeze rejoicing in his presence.
Soon, there is nothing in this world besides him, the breeze, and the vortex of flowers that whirl around him. Petals flutter from the swirl, breaking free, and before his very eyes they take the shape of a person.
They slouch, as though shying from the attention. As though the weight of their guilt keeps their gaze downward. They remain bundled, as though attempting to hide as much away as possible. But when the figure believes Jing Yuan is not looking, they turn to look at him. If they had eyes, they would be gentle.
And just as soon as the vision begins, it fades away. Jing Yuan now stands where he was before. ]
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Soon, there is nothing in this world besides him, the breeze, and the vortex of flowers that whirl around him. Petals flutter from the swirl, breaking free, and before his very eyes they take the shape of a person.
They slouch, as though shying from the attention. As though the weight of their guilt keeps their gaze downward. They remain bundled, as though attempting to hide as much away as possible. But when the figure believes Jing Yuan is not looking, they turn to look at him. If they had eyes, they would be gentle.
And just as soon as the vision begins, it fades away. Jing Yuan now stands where he was before. ]