Aikefei, the name itself is like a cup of light tea, revealing a silent elegance, but also implying sharp edges. The magic weapon in her hand, “Xiangyun Player”, is a cold and beautiful staff, like an exquisite porcelain bottle, easy to break, but carrying countless expectations and ambitions.
Her growth does not have a grand story, but more of the meticulousness and forbearance in the details.
Starting from scratch, accumulating bit by bit – the fragments of Shivada jade silver, the fragments of Shivada jade, the sound of meshing gears, these cold names are very similar to the unavoidable trivialities in life, each of which is a slight injury, but also an accumulation of strength.
Her growth is like a long banquet, each dish is so light that it is ignored, but it is full of mystery, slowly stacked into a feast.
Meshing gears, mechanical spur gears, and strange mechanical movement gears… Their voices are mechanical and ruthless, like a man’s merciless fingers in the cold winter, coldly pinching her lifeline. But she accepted it silently, like a woman sitting on a shabby sofa, silently enduring the ruthless beating of life.
When she collected blue crystal snails, she walked along the coast of the Serlo Sea Plain. The sea breeze was salty and fishy, blowing her clothes. Those blue conches were very much like the secrets hidden in her heart, calm on the outside, but turbulent on the inside. She lowered her head to pick them up, and her fingertips slid across the cold shell surface, as if she had touched the feelings polished by time.
Her upgraded talent book “Justice” is three words in her life, teachings, guidance and philosophy, just like the handwriting on those old pages, yellowed but indelible. Her state of mind is also like this text, calm but full of helplessness. The Fontaine copy every Tuesday, Friday and Sunday has become a date she must go to, which is the wrestling field between her and fate.
The name “Erosion of the Soul” is full of absurd beauty, just like the nightmare she can’t get rid of in her life. The weekly boss is cruel and cunning, like a sudden betrayal in her emotions, hurting people invisibly, but she has to face it. She is covered with scars and dark circles, but she still sprints again and again, holding on to that little bit of hope.
There is no easy way to go in this world, just like the materials in her hands, a mixture of purity and pollution, light and darkness.
The dregs and sublimation of “Pure Sacred Dew” interweave her growth curve, stained with the mottled time, and become an indelible mark. Those phantoms of “polluted water” are like the undercurrents deep in her heart, quietly eroding her purity, but they are the past she cannot give up.
Her growth is a silent war, silent, forbearing, without roar, but it cannot be ignored. She had no blessing of flowers, no applause, only the sound of broken jade and the sound of gears.
And she never let herself be weak. She understood that all this was just the fireworks of life, brilliant and short, but a chapter she had to go through.
Just like those cold jades, they would shine after being polished,
she quietly created her own story with her blood and tears.
Those stories were hidden in the gaps between gears, in the dust of ice jade fragments,
and she,
in all the cold and pain, bloomed with her own tenderness and tenacity.
This was her fate,
weaving quietly between broken jade and gears, and slowly walking away.