Butterfly.
A beautiful purple-blue butterfly fluttered past Ning Xinyuan. She chased its phantom, stepping dazedly into a rushing river.
Smack.
Ning Xinyuan tried to catch the butterfly, but it nimbly escaped her delicate hands. Like an oversized child, she fell into the river. Yet the water did not wet her clothes or skin, and she could not see her reflection in its surface.
From the river, she saw a train... Two people were sitting inside it... She knew one of them. She was Ming Shuiyun's classmate—cold and taciturn, with a beautiful face. What was her name again? Something Qian... Classmate Qian sat on the train, while the slightly older man beside her looked very much like her. He was equally cold and taciturn, and equally beautiful...
Splash.
Ning Xinyuan caught sight of the butterfly flying past her eyes. Like a cat, she immediately pounced, but the butterfly dodged her again, and she fell into the river once more. It did not hurt, and she was not wet, but failing to catch it twice in a row made Ning Xinyuan feel terribly aggrieved. Her lips were pursed so tightly they could hold a bottle, and her eyes were brimming with tears, as though she might burst into tears the next second.
But when she saw the image in the river, she was immediately drawn to it.
From the river, she saw a white-haired person... She knew about white-haired people. They were all Hidden Sword Assassins... This white-haired person was holding a strangely shaped sword and killing people. He killed countless people, and his appearance aged from youth to old age... The aged White-Haired Assassin...
Ning Xinyuan felt that something was wrong, but her thinking ability was almost nonexistent now. Her attention was once again drawn to the butterfly swaying ahead of