In the early morning, there is a gentle breeze. The surface of the lake is rippling. The waves crashed silently, bringing up gusts of water. The wicker fluttered in the wind, and gently slapped the trunk of the tree as if it were imitating.

The old man practiced Tai Chi to the music in the park square.

Clear sky, many white clouds.

Occasionally, the sound of children laughing can be heard mixed with the music.

Suddenly, I felt that life was so simple, quiet and beautiful.

We live in a world of mixed desires, perhaps, only in the two moments of young children's laughter and old age will they really let go of their minds and live freely.

Young children joking, staggering as they walked, and old men waved their arms for a steady stride.

It's like a painting.

A painting that travels through time and space, but runs through the past and the present.

This is the exchange and transformation of life, the undertaking and entrustment.

This is the dialogue of life.

One grows, one lets go.

One longing, one forgetting.

One is gradually owned, and the other is gradually lost.

But it will eventually pass away, and finally turn into a piece of loess.

Then deposited in the endless years.

Chapter 24 of "Liu's Essays" Xinjian is hitting in his hand, please wait a while,

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