The countryside of the spring night, I don't know whether it is due to the care of the stars in the sky, or thanks to the intentional release of her magical functions, it does not look blurry at all. The tender blades of grass that emerged from the ground were shining brightly, as if there were countless little fairies dancing on them. In the air of the countryside, except for the fresh smell of grass, there is meticulous silence.

Wake up from hibernation

Some time on the earth,

Maybe take a sleep in the winter

sleeping too much,

Although I was coaxed out of a slight sleep on the spring night,

still standing tall and refusing to sleep,

Covetous for the welfare of alms on a spring night.

However, the silence that naturally sent out to soothe all living beings was overshadowed by the rustling of the soles of my feet.

How can you not be annoyed by a pair of laity's feet and shoes mass-produced by machines. But what can I do? I knew that slowing down and moving with the tanuki approaching the bird's probe would eliminate the rustle. The sound was gone, and she was gone.

To put it mildly, before I got to the countryside, I could hear her footsteps. It's light, but you can hear it, and it's still mixed in with the noise of the city. Why can't you hear anything when you get to the countryside? Could it be that there is a strict order in her world: after entering the countryside, you are not allowed to make a sound of moving. Maybe it was, but I could see that although her feet were still on the ground, the trampling was clearly suspended earth qi. I have some opinions: since you can add fast foot strength to me, at this moment, why don't you add me to the foot skills that are like floating clouds! Let me be cautious in the silence of this suburb, what is wrong.

Fifty paces away, the waist draped in starlight, like a spring willow that has just spit green in the breeze, full of spring and delicate charm, tempting the instinctive warm fluid to slide through the throat. The hundred-year-old wine, nourishing the bones, fragrant the heart, surging with hot blood, thick and mellow life, like this star-covered dome-like night sky, covers me firmly.

There was a kind of meeting that happened on the night of the Lantern Festival at that time. Thousands of lights are like day, and in the sea of people, one pair of eyes touches another pair of eyes. Is there really a strange thing in the world, and thousands of accidents meet the frontier? A night of fish and dragon dance, the lights are dim, don't make an appointment after dusk. It was the era of being able to meet, that era with the movable type printing passed down from generation to generation, attached to the fireworks in the world, the spirit of the earth that could not be moved, and the words and symbols were transformed into flesh and blood and warm real bodies, relying on each other to warm each other, forming a rope of love, and there was still an invisible pull, with the hearty joy of the entity, the pain of the mountain stone after waking up, completing the freehand and symbolism of the highest form of life, and injecting the humane spirit destined to become a spark for future generations, injecting the potential of consciousness and waiting to go. Now, it may have been broken.

Follow and step into the night fog, although it is not heavy, but it is not light, inhaled into the nasal cavity, the slightest damp and cool. She was still so clear that the night fog couldn't make her invisible. Of course, this was her reluctance, and she didn't want me to lose my goal yet.

Walking out of the night fog, a pavilion appeared in front of me, and the soft candlelight sent warm greetings through the quaint window lattice. This made me, who followed me step by step in the countryside on a spring night, feel indescribably cordial and comforted. Soon, I heard soft music and low laughter. There seemed to be a night feast going on in the pavilion.

She deliberately took a few quick steps, leaving me behind. I also wanted to speed up my pace, but my legs and feet were no longer following the command of my consciousness and could not exert my strength. Soon she was in front of the attic door, straightened her clothes, brushed her hair, and flashed into the door that had been pulled open from the inside. The door was then shut. I didn't see what kind of thing was sliding the door and closing. The candlelight in the pavilion was brighter.

I didn't dare to rush forward, so I stopped, and after taking a closer look at the pavilion the size of an ordinary villa, I sat down against an old locust tree opposite the pavilion. As soon as I sat down, I felt my legs filled with lead, and then my body woke up with the tiredness in my body: Oh, actually, I was very tired, tired all over. Well, just sit by the candlelight in the attic, don't want to move, can't move if you want to. Oh, my legs that have been exercising all year round and the bones of my body that I think are strong can't bear this long-term tailgating.

There are too many wastes attached to the body, and they can't be thrown away with a ruthless heart like the burden on their backs. You can throw it away, but only if you get rid of it in its entirety. There is only one way – suicide. However, there are not many people who are willing to do so. Among the ethnic groups that believe that it is better to die than to live, there are even more minority. Therefore, no matter what kind of external force a living person gets, he cannot overcome the accumulation of fatigue. - Fatigue is also one of the waste products in the body. To live is to consume, and all the consumption in the universe has to produce waste.

I leaned comfortably against the sleeping old locust tree, looked at the candlelight in the attic, felt the spring night continue to sink, and thought to myself, just give myself to this strange spring night completely.

The laughter in the pavilion faded away, but the music didn't fade away. I raised my eyes and looked at the candlelit windows of the pavilion, hoping to see something from them, even if it was a few moving shadows. But all I could see was candlelight.

The music is slowly wafting in, decomposing the objects in my mind, feeling that the objects and images are all expanding and separating, and there are three-dimensional shapes that change colors and colors continuously, like a boat and not a boat, like a gorge and not a gorge, like a forest and not a forest, and the goddess peak, plausible but not ....... The eyelids began to heavily, and the candlelit window floated like waves......

When the day dawned, I woke up and realized that I had slept deeply on the old locust tree, as if I had not dreamed. After the patterns in the eyes dissipated, the empty soil bags gathered together. Oh, the desolate graves. Ay! Strange, what about the pavilion, what about the music, what about her? How did the other entity become this entity, and how did the joy of anger end up in the dead and sinking of the forest? I slept so well this night, I slept out of "Liao Zhai".

Which one is this? What kind of suspense? That old white bluff with rotten bones - Pu Songling, what does it have to do with me? I don't respect him, I love him, and I've never had a friendship with him, so why should I encounter the coldness and bleakness of his pen? I can't help but be clear. Listen: No matter what kind of power you are, what kind of tricks you have, whether it's clear matter or dark matter, don't have anything to do with me; You can copy Pu Songling in this era that shouldn't be copied, but you can't let me catch up, let alone let me be a stunned pawn. I've always resisted the inexplicability of excess. If you want to come with me, you will come straightforwardly, what you should be, whatever work you should do, I will do what I can, I will not do what I can, I will not do it, it is shallots mixed with tofu - a clear thing!

After complaining, I immediately felt bored: this board is nonsensical, confused! Even if your selfish desires bulge out of your abdomen, you have to think about it! This should be the past, buried, nothing in the world can stop it, let alone change the script, just like the rotation of the sun and the moon, the alternation of the four seasons. You are an insignificant, timid grass farmer in the world, and you deserve to stretch out your fingers and poke a little bit?

Emotions calmed down.

The slightest coolness fills the awakened face. Under the skin of the face, I feel the cool night air that is lurking. The lurking of the night air will not end until the sun shines. Surprisingly, the body was still as warm as before going to bed, as if it was nestled in the bed. But after all, it was in the suburbs on a spring night, and after sleeping on the ground for so long, why didn't you soak in a little spring cold? Why, who put a lid on me when I fell asleep, and I quietly took it back before I woke up?

I owe it forward, move my tired body from sleep, and then lean back against the old tree. As far as the eye can see, the misty fields of the spring morning are preparing for the post-sunrise stretch, and the desolate graves have moved to the bottom of the line of sight, forming several arc-shaped dotted lines. In the distance, the green wild trees, covered with a faint vapor, still fall asleep, and after a while, the early birds will come and wake them up. The wildflowers have not yet bloomed in large areas, and the first ones to bloom are sticking out of the grass, but the color is not strong enough, and the form is thin and thin, and it feels like a gust of wind can blow away and roll into flying flowers.

It is said that the solid earth, the natural spring scene, and the soil bags piled up by manpower no longer melt into the non-physical illusion. But my consciousness is still blind at night, and the doubts that are wrapped in a solid core still support my prejudices that I don't know where they came from. The sound in the ears sounds: what is in front of you is often a metaphor for the distance, and what is far away is often a clear indication of the present; Far away and in front of the present, who is the subject of whom, who is the derivation of whom, is more entangled than the chicken is the chicken of the egg, or the egg is the egg of the chicken, and the entanglement will never lead to the result.

But if you look at it separately, there is indeed a distance between the distant and the present. However, this distance cannot be measured by a scale. You may have found a scale that you can measure, but you can't get the data. Because this distance is in space, there is no stable starting point for positioning, and the unfixed starting point keeps swapping heads and tails, catching up with the two ends of the earthworm - crawling towards this side, this side is the head, and that side is the tail; Crawling that way, the head there, the tail this side, is more elusive than a delirious dream. Therefore, the distant and the present, in the inseparability of distance, are ambiguous.

Looking back at the time and space that I haven't traveled far—the shaking carriages, the lively night scenes, the tall ancient buildings, the countryside ...... on a spring night, and the end point before I fall asleep leaning against a tree, all of them have been vividly collected into my historical bag and become the evidence of the final judgment. Of course, I don't know how long the final judgment will last, so let's leave it for later. What needs to be brought back now is now, before we get completely tired of it.

The fox fairy was recognized, I was separated, followed in pure material time and space, step by step to this place - also here in pure material time and space - suddenly a dream, full of contradictions. What is this annotation? Getting rid of me would have been easy for the fox fairy to leave the city, but she had no intention of doing so, otherwise, she wouldn't have given me more strength on her feet. The reason why I have increased my foot strength is that I don't have to follow her and come here.

This is the end of her journey,

And that's where I tailged.

So, for what purpose did you choose the end point here? Can you ask like this: is the encounter not a chance encounter, and the insight is not accidental, it is all premeditated and carefully arranged?