Between the gaps of light and green, butterflies fan the air and condense into a glass flower stand. The slender wings transform into stacked shelves, just like butterfly wings resting. The light passes through the glass, casting a lively shadow that even the flowers seem to be dancing.

It stands still on the windowsill or corner, blooming with small springs - succulents curled up in the veins like veins, vines hanging down like butterfly whiskers trembling lightly. Bending down to take a closer look, it seems like you can hear the faint sound of spreading your wings. This is a frozen art: life, in its lightest form, lifts up another life.

As the dusk fades, the flower racks and butterfly shadows gradually blend into the twilight, only the glass edges are still coated with gold, reminding you that beauty is always fragile and flying.