Ginseng Fruit flowers cluster in pairs, hanging fully on the branches, swaying gently with the breeze, as if thousands of butterflies are simultaneously spreading their wings, dancing gracefully.
In an instant, it's like witnessing myriad Danxia landscapes and thousands of layers of crimson brocade right before one's eyes.
Gazing into the distance, the canopy of the Ginseng Fruit Tree seems ablaze, fiercely resplendent and captivating, a sight too beautiful for words.
Such a beautiful scene,
even in Jiang Hui's view, was quite pleasing to the eye.
However, this magnificent spectacle did not last too long.
Merely the time it takes to drink a cup of tea in the afternoon, the blooming flowers withered at a rate visible to the naked eye, falling from the dense foliage of the branches like rootless duckweeds, one after another.
The falling blossoms rustled down.
Leaves return to their roots, flowers to their stems.
The end of an old life is the birth of a new one.
