“When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”
“That silver butterfly was sparkly and translucent, looking pure and limpid. As it flew around in the air, it left behind bright traces. Xie Lian couldn’t help but reach out a hand toward it.”