The Outcast and the White Moonlight

Upon reincarnating into my youth, I encountered the outcast true young master on the rooftop.

He was covered in bruises, his eyes devoid of light, like a butterfly on the verge of spreading its wings to fly.

Under the sunlight, I reached out to his plea for help.

“If salvation requires bearing a heavy soul, I think… I am willing.”

That afternoon.

I held onto my delicate rose.