This ceramic vase stands quietly on the desk, its curves as soft as a dewdrop about to fall. The glaze is sky-blue tinged with moonlit white, like the first light breaking through clouds after rain. The body is subtly carved with entwining lotus patterns, and a gentle touch of the fingertip reveals delicate, thread-like undulations. The belly is full and round, yet the neck is slender and refined, like a lady in contemplation with her hands folded. The unglazed base reveals a russet-brown clay body, its kiln-fire ardor long cooled, leaving only a gentle warmth. A few dried branches slant within it, their shadows falling across the vase—neither flower nor vase truly, both at peace in quiet elegance.