Lin Guang was catching a butterfly.
He held an insect net, with myriad ginkgo leaves flying around him like a golden dream.
The sunlight poured through the golden leaves, he tilted his head back as if to bury it in the full spread of spring.
"Tap, tap, tap."
Walking on the soft carpet of golden leaves, he reached out his hand, but the butterfly quickly flew away, so he began to use the net to try to catch the butterfly.
"Snap!"
A crisp sound resonated, it seemed Lin Guang had used too much force, and a wing of the butterfly was hit by the edge of the net and tore.
Then, the butterfly started to speak.
"Poor Bug Catcher."
"You want to capture me, but this will tear my wings."
"You want to keep me, but all you will have is a specimen."
"Let me go, let me go, give me time to escape."
"If you can catch up with me, I will no longer run."
...
Lin Guang felt curious, he had never seen a talking butterfly before.
"Alright, you run, I'll chase," he said.
