Countless peach blossoms danced through heaven and earth, like innumerable exquisite butterflies fluttering in graceful flight.
A splendor at the unreachable end of a dream.
One day, this rain of flowers filling the skies would dance for me alone as well.
"My Little Princess."
"Happy birthday."
Ye Qingxian gave the thing in her hand a little shake.
Listening to her gentle call by my ear, the unreality in my eyes—so shaken that I had mistaken this for a dream—was gradually awakened, allowing me to reconnect with reality.
Seeing Ye Qingxian's movement, I instinctively wanted to lower my head.
Then I heard her steady, cool voice. "Don't lower your head. I'll put a crown on you."
Her words carried two meanings.
The crystal crown was light, not heavy in the slightest.
Its touch was cool against my skin.
She placed it securely atop my head.
My cheeks flushed red. Suppressing my delight, I said brightly, "Is all this really necessary? If you do this, I'll really start to think I'm a princess." I teased Ye Qingxian without saying anything to spoil the mood, though deep down, I still remembered to know my place.
An ugly duckling could not hope for the beautiful dream of becoming a swan princess.
The "ugly duckling" that could become a swan princess had been a swan from the very beginning.
A duck was destined to never become a swan.
Just as I would never be a princess.
Ye Qingxian paid no heed to any of that, her tone domineering. "Who dares say you aren't a princess? With me, you will always be Princess. Besides, today is your birthday. If you aren't one, then who is?"
She had been waiting for someone to step forward and object. "Did you hear that? No one objects, so you are."