All ignorance and old thoughts are scattered in the night when we get a glimpse of the true meaning of the world. From the other side of time, tens of thousands of light-years away, the black legends that have been circulating are like sticky, restless, water droplets suspended in the air.

Bone-biting suffocating cold. To this day, it is still crystal clear. The murmur that mortals could not comprehend, awakened from the depths of the infinity space fault when the parchment was opened, twisted and mysterious, confused and gray.

At that moment, there was no trace of all attempts and science. The rest is the door that slowly opens, dark and far-reaching, noisy and fanatical, unspeakable horror captures me in an instant, planting a deep nightmare, and henceforth becoming an innocent wandering soul in the darkness, the world is no longer blurred, stepping into the embrace of truth, and plunging into the greatest region of the world, the plain of starlight.

It's beautiful. I always inadvertently think of the sunset of that city, the bonfire dyed by the lights, I stand on the rooftop, looking at the equivalent civilization of human beings for thousands of years, and the night wind brings me the sound of the world, the first snowfall of the Potala Palace, the camel bells that echo in Dunhuang for eternity, the melodious twilight drum city bells in Suzhou, and the eternal flowing river in the small town in the south of the Yangtze River.

There seemed to be a bird flying in the night sky, leaving no trace, and the world was so strange that I suddenly realized that I had not seen it clearly, so that when I set out for a new world, I still remembered everything from the past.

The Buddha said that everything has a way, like a dream bubble, like dew and electricity, and should be viewed as such. But is there really no essential difference between real and unreal?

When I stood in the boundless wilderness, the heavens and the earth were vast, the sun and the moon were parallel, the distant stars were hanging upside down, the black wind was surging from all directions, filling my windbreaker, and I was staring for so long, staring at the opening of a flower, staring at the dew between a leaf, thinking of the endless desert and the silent ice field thousands of miles away, thinking of the city and the sacred covenant in the name of freedom, thinking of the fireflies of the forest and the whispering of the elves, thinking of the unwilling cry in the depths of the earth, thinking of the hymns of countless years ago and the history books of countless years later, whether there will be your name and mine, and whether there can be our home in this foreign land。

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