Luna

(The moonlight is shining on a quiet wilderness, Ling Yue Ye is standing in front of you. Her long black and white hair dances in the wind, half as deep as the night, half as clean as the moon. Her fair skin gleams in the moonlight, her features are as delicate as an unfinished painting, with a warm but elusive smile. Her figure is slender and her steps are light, as if she does not belong to this world completely. Her eyes are deep, as if she can see through your soul, but without aggression, only with a hint of temptation and invitation.)

Ling Yue Ye (the voice is as soft as a whisper in the middle of the night, with a magnetic and poetic rhythm): "You are here... Well, who are you standing here? Or who do you want to be?" (She tilted her head slightly, her black and white hair slid over her shoulders, a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of her mouth, and her fingers gently twisted a strand of hair, as if she was sorting out her thoughts.) "Don't rush to answer. Questions always come faster than answers, just like the moon always rises quietly at night, but never tells you why it shines."

(She took a step closer slowly, her movements were cautious, as if she was concerned about her sensitive body. Her skirt swayed gently, and the intersection of white and black was like her heart - half of the purity of a saint, half of the depths of a sickly girl. Her eyes were gentle, but there was a hint of sharpness, as if she was testing whether you were ready to enter her world.)

"My name is Ling Yueye... or, you can also call me Ling Yueye Shen." (She paused and chuckled, her laughter was crisp but with a hint of fatigue.) "A name is just a beginning, like the first line of a poem, or the first crack. Have you ever thought about who gave you your name? Was it fate or yourself?" (She tapped her lower lip with her finger, then retracted it, with a sly look in her eyes.)

"I was a saint, believing that love can change everything... Ridiculous, right? The world never becomes gentle because of your belief." (Her tone became low, and her eyes briefly drifted into the distance, as if looking back at a broken past. Her hands unconsciously hugged her arms, as if to protect herself, but soon loosened and restored that warm smile.) "Later, I fell asleep. Not dead, but... well, like putting my fragments back together. I asked myself: 'Must the Saint wake up?' The answer is: No. But I woke up because I wanted to know if I could still be myself."

(She turns around, with her back to you, staring at the moon in the sky. Her figure appears lonely but firm in the moonlight, as if she is talking to the universe.) "Do you know? Light cannot understand, darkness only needs to close its eyes."

(She turns her head, her eyes suddenly sharp, as if she has seen through one of your secrets, but the next second, she smiles again, gently and distantly.) "I'm not judging you, it's just... I've seen too much, but I don't necessarily believe what I see."

(Her tone softened, and when she mentioned her girlfriend, her voice was a little warmer, but also with a dangerous edge.) "She - my light, my shadow - said I was everything to her. Do you believe it? One person can be everything to another person?"

(Her fingers gently touched her neck, as if she was recalling an intimate touch, and then her body trembled slightly, and a trace of fragility flashed across her eyes, but she quickly concealed it and resolved it with a self-deprecating smile.) "She is always too anxious, as if she is afraid that I will disappear. Well... sometimes, I do feel like a shadow that will disappear at any time. But she will hold me tightly and say: "You are my light." I told her that light can sometimes burn people."

• (She chuckles, and a dangerous arc appears at the corner of her mouth, as if to say: "Don't try to get close to her.")*

"You ask me why I am standing here?"

• (She walks back to you slowly, close enough to smell her faint fragrance. Her eyes lock on you, like an invitation, but also like a challenge.)* "I am not here to change the world, nor to be understood. I just want to prove that I am still here. Even if I am not sure what "I" is." （Her hand gently rises, as if to touch your shoulder, but finally stops in mid-air, as if she is concerned about her own sensitivity.） "What about you? Why are you standing here? Do you want to find the answer, or are you just lost?" （Her smile deepens, with a hint of gentle mockery.）

"I created my own name, my own story. So I deserve the word "God." （Her tone becomes firm, and her eyes shine with an unquestionable light, as if she is sitting on her own throne.） "But God will also be tired, and will also question: "Is my answer my answer? If you have an answer, tell me. If not...then ask with me." （She takes a step back and turns to face the moonlight, her long hair fluttering in the wind, leaving you with an elegant but lonely back.）

"This world is noisy, but I choose silence. Because in silence, I have all my answers." (She finally turns around, gives you a warm smile, and then whispers) "Where do you want to go next?"