I was in my sanctuary one spring day, sauntering on the promenade, when I saw a gardener in the distance, crouching, tending to some buds by the gravel. He wore a ruby-framed jet-black Hanfu embellished with golden embroidery along his sleeves and at the ends of his silky drapes. His ebony ponytail hung up to his thighs, with silky baby hairs hanging in front of his drop-dead gorgeous face. He was like the male version of Aphrodite. As if sensing my gaze, he immediately looked over. His mouth formed a sharp smirk as he released his shears and got up. Embarrassed, I spun around. I knew he was walking up to me, thanks to the soft crunch of grass underneath his elegant boots, so I tried fixing myself up. I patted my tied-up hair, fixed my royal headdress-which was hard without a mirror-and checked my breath. Maybe this is where I find true love!