If it weren't for the fact that more than ten years ago, my sister brought back "Dragon Jiubu", "Pinocchio", "Blue Blood Sword", "Wisdom Backpack", "Strange Tales from Liaozhai" and "Astringent Novels", "Hilarious Campus", "Ghost Stories", etc., maybe I would not have opened my heart and immersed myself in it, let alone insisted on practicing pen for many years, and became a comic after practice.

But happiness really accompanies me, and words also listen to my voice, contain everything about me, and never leave me.

Think about the books that have been turned over, think about those bizarre anecdotes, think about the beautiful things that go before the moon, think about those poignant and tactful love stories, think about those gritted teeth, think about the regrets of each side of the world, think about the love of men and women, think about the Pinocchio who grows old as soon as he lies, Duan Yu who is told "this is your sister" when he falls in love, and Ying Ning, who can flip three hundred years with a smile, is full of emotion and nostalgia.

But now, thinking about the experience of reading books, it is replaced by a philistine who is almost full, and there is no chance of flowers and fruits, I really don't know who fulfilled whom, and who abandoned whom.

The cultivation of a hobby may take many years, but the destruction of a hobby only takes a few days, hours, and an instant.

Maybe I just like this feeling, rather than really participating in it, but it's enough, and I enjoy it - a hundred years of jade bones and dust, Luo Qi still has the old spring.

The maple trees have been barren, and the ghost lights come to welcome people at night. Tears among the flowers become a harbinger, and the butterfly in the dream is the back.

If you don't have a chance, how can you see it at first sight; If you don't have a chance, how can you come to accompany you; If not, how can I meet you - you travel through time, through the world, follow fate, and come to meet me, in this sea of thousands of people, in this countless good times.

Maybe gratitude is just a lie, but I want to tell it because I know you know me. It is said that people who love words are hypocritical, but I am willing to be hypocritical, not for anything else, but for the beauty that shines year after year but no one looks at it, and of course, my story.

"I Am the Emperor of Freedom" [My 213 Life] 08: The Origin Chapter is being played by hand, please wait for a while,

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