I stood on the Black Coast and saw Chun coming.
Her hair was a dream that could change color, red like the sun just rising in the evening, blue like the sky after the rain, and white like a page of letter paper without writing. She didn’t speak, but gently danced the swift knife in her hand, once, twice… like the wind blowing through the leaves, like a song that no one sang.
She didn’t come to fight, she came to dance. But her dance steps were too sharp, which would cut through the wind and sting the sea.
Some people say that she came from the place of annihilation, a world without light and sound. But her eyes were as bright as stars. She looked ahead, as if she was looking for something, and as if she had found it.
A girl came to her side. Her name was Deng Deng.
She was not as quiet as Chun, she could laugh, and her laugh was like candy melting in water. She also had a weapon, a long blade, and her movements were fast, but she didn’t seem to be fighting, but chasing a butterfly.
Deng Deng has a friend, she summoned him, a small creature, running and dancing with her, not talking, but always by her side. Just like your shadow when you were a child.
The card pool of version 1.4 is like a garden, full of old and new flowers. Chun and Deng Deng are new flowers, with strange colors, but they are so fragrant that people are reluctant to leave. Yinlin is a flower from the past, it was fragrant once, and it is still fragrant now. Jin Xi and San Hua put on new clothes, they said: “Look, I am still me, just a different way to accompany you.”
Treabar is a portal. As long as you click it, you can go from the present to the future. From waiting to having, from having nothing to a light in your heart. Three minutes, not long or short, like you close your eyes and think of her, and when you open your eyes again, she is already in front of you.
The world of Mingchao is not a battle, but a journey about finding. Chun is looking for herself, Deng Deng is looking for answers, and players are looking for a kind of power, perhaps a kind of love.
The wind on the Black Coast was blowing, not cold, not hot, like a kind of tenderness that was unwilling to be expressed. And Tsubaki was there, gently dancing her sword dance, crying and laughing as she danced.