(a)

Light is pervasive, fast enough to turn back time, but it is still fragile. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

It can travel through the vastness of the universe and the eons of time, but it often doesn't fit a single page of photocopied paper. When you gaze at something affectionately, your gaze is cut off as long as a copy paper is blocked in front of your eyes.

Therefore, the date we completed with the help of light at that time was actually very fragile. There are a variety of factors that often interfere with it. It never succeeds every time. It often fails because of some accident. But that makes it even more magical and precious. That's why we're even more addicted.

The reasons for its failure are so varied. Sometimes it was because of a sudden cool breeze outside the window, and a reader sitting next to me felt cold because he was thinly dressed, so he got up and closed the glass of that window. Sometimes it was a sudden rainstorm that drifted from the windows onto the long tabletops, wetting the pages, so the caretaker went over and closed the windows. Sometimes it's because when we arrive, the seats in that area are all full, and we can't sit in a place where each other can see our shadows. Sometimes it's because the tube of a fluorescent lamp is broken and lacks a bright enough light source for projection.

Another time, it was because a glass was shattered yesterday by a child's slingshot. That day, I was where I was supposed to be you, and all I could see was a concrete wall behind a narrow window frame.

It's like the lead-gray, heavy, insurmountable walls that I often see in my later life.

(b)

It was during those days that I found a lot of information about the time when the Blackwater River had not yet stopped. Many influential people of that era passed by me like marquees. As I read their stories, comparing them with my scattered and sometimes thin memories of my past lives, I was able to roughly match the vague impressions in my mind with those of the characters and events in the history books and legends.

One day, I finally read in the historical sources what happened in that moonlit valley. I read that the Tibetan warriors who were chasing you were struck by invisible thunder and lightning, their heads suddenly burst open and shattered, their brains bursting out, and one by one they fell from their horses, unable to hurt you who were already unconscious.

I read exactly the same description of what I experienced when I aimed for the bullseye on that thunderstorm day. These descriptions were left in the history books thousands of years ago. There is no possibility of fraud, and it cannot be a coincidence! How could there be such a coincidence!

I sat there bloodless. It wasn't a hallucination. I didn't have 10 bullets on target paper that day, and they hit the right target in another plane.

It's me! It was I myself who shot and killed the Tubo people who were chasing you at that time more than a thousand years later!

It's me! Saved you on your 20th birthday in your previous life!

The moment I found my missing bullet, my perspective on the world changed completely.

Not only can I no longer have a common language with my peers, but I and everyone else but you can no longer have a common language.

When you understand where you came from and where you die, you will understand why you no longer have a common language with the regular world.

(c)

It was also during those days that you began to read the history books that I was keen to read deeply and systematically.

After you read the first official history, you will find that you are also deeply attracted to it.

The second book you choose is the second book I choose.

Later, I was amazed to find that the path you chose to read was exactly the same as my previous choice.

If we had had had it not been for death taking you away halfway, you would have followed this path to catch up with my reading.

With the hints and touches of the historical records, we will definitely be able to fully remember the details of each other's life after being separated for a long time.

But alas, we don't have that opportunity anymore. We don't have that opportunity anymore, as we did in our previous lives.

Your follow-up reading after me was forever stopped at the time of book 12.

That book is the last book you ever read in your life.

Your bookmark last stopped on page 122.

On the back page of your bookmark, page 123, is a chapter on Empress Zhengde. A 22-page chapter on my life as Empress Jeongdeok.

You stopped just one step away from my posthumous title.

You didn't end up being able to see my title from a bygone era.

The curtain of death fell suddenly, again, as if all the lights in the theater were turned off in an instant.

Our dating in this life is destined to end abruptly.

The pain of life and death, it is always repeated, endless, endless.

(iv)

At that time, I borrowed a lot of Chinese and foreign classical poems, especially all kinds of love poems.

When many girls fall in love, they like to read all kinds of poems about love.

Those poems are like mirrors, reflecting the beautiful brilliance of their hearts at that moment.

They linger in front of the mirrors of these poems, amazed at the magic that the light of love makes them shine. They find themselves as beautiful as goddesses in love.

At that time, I also loved to read all kinds of poems about love. But while I like to look in this mirror, I also deeply feel that it is still dull.

The most unsatisfying thing about love poetry is the sense of separation.

There is usually a clear line separating men and women. They seemed to be standing on either side of a great geological fissure, on the edge of a cliff on one side, and singing passionately and far away across a bottomless ravine.

It's moving, but there's something wrong with it. It's like a file on a beauty's face.

Every time I read a psalm like this, I can't help but have an eraser in my hand.

I really wanted to be able to reach out and get into the pages and smooth out the ravine.

After smoothing it out, I still can't get enough of it, and I want to further erase the contours of the male and female bodies on both sides.

Wipe off not only the borders of your body, but also the borders of your eyes, nose, and mouth.

Not only do you have to wipe out all the borders that can be seen, but you also have to erase the borders that you can't see. Erase the distinction between "you" and "me" that are suspended in the consciousness of both sides.

When everything was erased, I wanted to go back to the outside of the page and erase all the words that appeared on the page. There is only a vast and endless void left, in which everything permeates and interpenetrates each other.

When you are at a certain point in the void, you are at any point in the void at the same time. (To be continued.) )