The funeral was held on a day in mid-May.

The weather was fine, and it should have been a beautiful day, so I went out with my family for an outing, flying kites and catching butterflies. But no matter how good the weather is, as soon as you walk into this area, it inexplicably begins to feel depressing, indescribably depressing, almost a little suffocating.

No matter how good you are, when you get here, it's naturally not so good, and even a little gloomy and strange. You look at the people on the side of the road, and the look makes you feel a little sick, as if in those dark corners where the sun does not shine, there are dead souls sitting there, and they have become really idle at this time, and they can sit like this all day long, observing the world of the living.

The world of living people is always extremely busy, and to be honest, no one knows what it is for to be so busy?

People will say: The saints all say that to live is to live well. The premise of living well is to live well, isn't it busy to live well? Eating and drinking Lazar every day can consume a lot of your energy and time, not to mention the need for love, physical needs, family reunions, needs between relatives and friends, social values, etc., etc., enough for you to be busy to death.

In fact, in history, all the saints lived a very leisurely life.

If they are so busy that they almost burp every day, how can they have time to think about how you descendants should live? How to live well? How can we live in a philosophical sense? How can they sing verses that have never been seen before or since?

It is always the foolish people who are fooled.

However, when a person dies, he may indeed be idle.

Perhaps, a spirit will suddenly pat you on the shoulder and complain at you: stop talking nonsense, who said that you are dead and idle? It's so idle, it can make people die of idleness.

You look at it for a moment, only to find that there is nothing behind you. So who was filming you just now?

At that moment, the diving bird did seem to have been suddenly patted by someone, and when he looked back, there was no one at all. And a small merchant on the other side of the street who was engaged in the dark coin business showed a mysterious smile at him, and when he smiled, he still showed a sallow tooth, like the fangs of the evil spirit, even terrifying.

His hairs stood on end, and in an instant he felt an eerie aura permeate his surroundings. Fortunately, there was a golden sun shining on the top, which made him settle his yang energy again.

I silently chanted in my heart: there are no taboos! Amitabha!

When people are in the most fearful, they suddenly have faith. Faith is always the last strand of faith and support when people are desperate and desperate. Faith is also the most paradoxical philosophical and theological category in the world, and today's scientists even include faith in the category of certain sciences. Sartre said: To exist is to be reasonable.

Faith, as many years as there are in the world, faith will exist for as many years. Don't you think that's reasonable, too?

Most young people only believe in themselves.

Diving birds have always believed in themselves.

He remembers going to the temple once in his early years when things were not going well, but it quickly became an insignificant, joking memory.

Now, he suddenly became serious—

Those things that I used to scorn, which are not the same thing, may need to be seriously reconsidered.

In other words, it's time to rethink your life.

This is the second time that the diving bird thinks about life. The first time was at the age of twenty-three, abandoned by his job, self-denial, and reduced to a humble urban nomad.

Living in a cheap and cramped share house, eating instant noodles and bread, calculating every penny in his pocket, not daring to expect love and women, having an inexplicable hostility towards everyone, and falling into a desperate situation of inferiority and high self-esteem......

Under the sun, many vendors who are doing business in the underworld are swaying along the streets, buying and selling all kinds of flowers and coins to meet your various needs.

They are also trying to peddle their belongings and tell you how important these things are because your loved ones will need them there.

But who knows if there really is? Really need it?

Because no one knows, so some people believe it.

The diver stopped some distance from the street, as if out of a sense of awe, and he felt that it was better to walk this last little road. He walked around, stopped for a while at a flower vendor, and bought a bouquet of flowers.

He never bought flowers, and he never bought flowers for women.

But for the first time in his life, he actually bought a bouquet of flowers and wanted to give them to the deceased Leng Qinghe.

He remembered that he had never bought a flower for a butterfly, even though the two of them spent Valentine's Day, Tanabata Festival, and New Year's Day together...... There were many festivals, but he never thought of buying a bouquet of flowers for butterflies.

He wondered, do butterflies also like flowers?

However, in his eyes, sending flowers is really the most boring thing for a man to a woman, and it is also the most pompous kind of hospitality in love.

He has always been very repulsive in his heart. However, Butterfly never mentioned such a request, or hinted at it, and he thought that she did not really like flowers, at least in the years they had been dating, he had not seen Butterfly express any affection for flowers, and she never grew flowers in her own home. She says she only likes plants with leaves.

And he believed it.

The vendor asked him enthusiastically: Do you need something else?

He shook his head and said he didn't need to.

He held this bouquet of flowers in his hand and thought to himself: I don't know if you like it, I bought it without permission.

He bought a bunch of yellow and white chrysanthemums. I felt that it was too plain, and I saw that there were a lot of roses in it, and finally added a few pink roses. The flower seller saw that he wanted pink roses, and he was a little inexplicable, baring his teeth and asking him embarrassedly: Who is it for?

The diving bird groaned for a moment and said, "A friend."

The vendor was still a little curious and said, "Live or dead?"

The diving bird glanced at him, noncommittal. For vendors, there are obviously strict rules for sending flowers for the living and flowers for the dead. However, most of the people who come here to buy flowers are given to the dead.

But the diving bird doesn't agree with it, he thinks that as long as Leng Qinghe likes it, it doesn't matter whether he sends the living or the dead.

The most important thing is that to this day, he has not accepted the fact that she is gone.

So he wouldn't classify her as a dead man.

She is still alive in his memory, and she is still the enchanting cold lotus that night.

He still remembered her eyebrows clearly, her charm, all the moments she had stirred his heart...... To list her as dead is a blasphemy.

Very few people came to the funeral, which was obviously why Leng Qinghe's mother pleaded so earnestly on the phone to come and see off her daughter for the last time.

As a mother, the most painful thing is to see her daughter pass away, how lonely and lonely she is.

Although the diving bird hesitated, he decided to come, fearing that he would meet some people he didn't want to meet, but he finally overcame this psychological barrier.