I am born of spring — tender leaves plucked at first light, kissed by mountain air and carried gently from jade-green fields. In cold water I unfold slowly, revealing my essence only to those who wait. My taste is crisp and bright, like meadow grass brushed with rain, with a sweetness that lingers softly. To drink me is to breathe in stillness: the calm of a shaded grove, the clarity of a clear stream. I leave you refreshed, centered, alive — as though the world has paused, and in that pause you discover your own quiet purity.
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