She is a tree. When he was born, she had been living in the courtyard of his house for a hundred years and had waited for a hundred years. Of course, for a tree, it has only been a hundred years for her to grow into a maiden—a maiden in a tree, and since then she has entered a pure and beautiful adolescence. On that crisp autumn afternoon, the sun was heartbreaking, and she finally saw him—the man she had prayed for and waited for for a hundred years. She couldn't help but tremble, and the excitement and nervousness made the leaves of the trees turn like little windmills in the autumn sun. She stared at him intently. He was still young, holding the hand of a beautiful young woman, and staggered towards her.

Suddenly, he broke free from the young woman's hand and staggered towards her, apparently trying to run before he could walk. She was so happy that she screamed in fright, and she didn't know what to do. Her heart stopped beating when his fleshy little hands touched her body—no, she stopped completely, dead. People often say that "happiness is dead", and this is probably the feeling. He was too young to hold her on his feet. As he staggered backwards, she lifted a tree root from the ground and held him firmly. Fortunately, all this was not discovered by the young woman, who saw the little boy playing on a horse (tree root) and praised him for his cleverness.

The little boy often played under the tree, and he rode the roots of the tree as if he were riding a war horse. He digs through the cracks in the bark to see if there are any ants; He knew it, but he hated their singing; He climbed trees just to show his ability; He tore the leaves, this one into a swallow, the other into a butterfly, but when he tore it, he threw it away...... She knows that he often plays under the tree, not because he likes her, but because it is fun and interesting here, and she can pass the lonely childhood, but she still has to thank God for giving her the opportunity to spend his childhood together.

More than ten years have passed, and he has just opened his love as a teenager and has something on his mind. She saw him wandering in the courtyard, and heard him sigh in the twilight, more saddened than herself. One night, he walked in the moonlight, came to her, and carved on her body by the moonlight, with the sharp knife that was sharper than the moonlight: "Huang Xiaomei, I love you!" "The knife, engraved on the body, hurts in the heart, a knife hurts, a knife bleeds, because Huang Xiaomei is not her; If it was her, not to mention a knife carving, even if she died, she would be willing. But she is a tree, and she suffers in silence, without shouting, without crying, only blood flowing. Another night, he hugged her tightly and wept bitterly, slapping her desperately as if it were all her fault, because the girl had rejected him. She hugged him heartbroken, and the leaves on the tree couldn't help but fall. She knew that the girl named Huang Xiaomei was flashy, loved to pull his hair, and was not worthy of his love. But she could say nothing but thank God for letting her have his secrets and keep her mouth shut.

Later, he met his present wife, a wise, virtuous, kind-hearted girl with a more attractive face and big eyes that could sing. But he hesitated, timid, and it was she who, on a date under a tree, thrust the girl into his arms until she was as soft as jade. It's not how great she is, it's that she can't bear to let her beloved suffer and torture.

In fact, she will also be jealous, she will also be sad and sad, do you know where the dew comes from in spring? That's because every leaf is her eyes, and every leaf that falls is her tears. They had lovers who eventually became married, but she was tragically destroyed, cut down, stripped and stripped and corrected, and finally became the pillar of his independent door, and was affixed with a family amulet, supporting a roof for him, guarding a complete home. It's his home, and it's hers. On the big day, she silently looked at the flowers and candles in his cave room from a high place, without complaint or regret, and laughed with tears. She is glad that from now on, she knows his pain and happiness well, her love and hatred for him are clear, and they have finally become a family, sharing fate and suffering. Even though he didn't know who she was, she knew enough.

There is a song that says that growing old with your lover is the most romantic thing. This is wrong. It's not romance, it's peace of mind. Growing old with your lover is the most reassuring thing. At least in her opinion, she was so relieved that people couldn't know what was going on. Finally, he had children. Eventually, his children had children. Finally, he grew old. Finally, she also reached the appointed time, she could go to the third hundred years of the promise, in the next hundred years, she will marry him, be pampered by him in every way, and enjoy the happiness of the world. A typhoon came as scheduled, and everyone was evacuated, but his old wife refused to leave, and died at home. According to the agreement, the old house will collapse, and she will be broken into several pieces. It was a typhoon and a storm at night, but she managed to survive - she couldn't put his old wife's life on the line.

After another ten years, his old wife had passed away, and the old house had been renovated to become the new home of his eldest grandson. She is still the pillar of this new home. When she was about to leave the second time as promised, his eldest granddaughter-in-law gave birth prematurely. After the sudden tornado and terrible hailstorm in the afternoon, seventeen or eighteen houses fell in the village, but her old house was unharmed, and the eldest granddaughter-in-law gave birth to a boy weighing seven pounds and eight taels, and the mother and child were safe. It was his blood, and she couldn't go to him with it. Her second failure finally violated the rules of heaven, and she was punished by heaven, thundered, and burned by heavenly fire. The old house collapsed, and she was broken into eight sections, burned in the fire, and finally reduced to ashes. But even if it is reduced to ashes, she will leave a tree of charcoal to make a fire and warm his children and grandchildren to survive this cold winter of losing their home.

And she has forever missed the hundred-year-old marriage that she has been praying for, waiting for a hundred years, and paying for a hundred years.

Forever missed the life of being loved.

And all this, he did not know; All he knew was that she was a tree, a tree.