In the endless darkness, Ralph drifted thoughtlessly, I don't know how long it had been, it seemed like a moment, it seemed like another thousand years.

A light suddenly appeared, dispelling the darkness and illuminating the world, and the world in the eyes was strange and magnificent.

In the center of this world, there is a young bird phantom, the figure shrinks and shrinks, light and dark, as if breathing.

Ralph knew that this was who he was.

On the side, there stood an old male phantom, with gray silver hair, gray temples, a face full of wrinkles, and a vacant look ahead.

Time passed in a hurry, leaving no trace here.

The light in the old man's eyes gradually gathered, condensed into a beam, and with a shudder, he woke up.

Looking around blankly, "Is this the world of the dead?" Is she still waiting for me?"

He walked around curiously, and when he found that when he walked into the white mist, he would walk out of the white mist on the other side.

He also noticed the young bird in the center, with fluffy feathers and curled up, very cute.

He didn't bother him, though.

As time passed, he realized that the area was only so large, and that the only "living life" was him and the illusory young bird.

I don't know when he started to notice that his body was getting more and more solid, and the phantom of the young bird was becoming more and more illusory, although it was still getting bigger, but it was like a bubble, as if it could be broken when the wind blew, but fortunately there was no wind here.

He looked at this little life worriedly, even if he died at the age of 100, he still couldn't let go of the importance of life.

I remember that when I was alive, my grandchildren always liked to raise some small fish or silkworm babies.

But, the child's popularity comes and goes quickly, and in the end, isn't it that he and his wife patiently raise them?

My own children are too, I have a dog at home, and I don't know how to take good care of it, and in the end it is all raised by myself and my wife.

I really owe it to their family.

Recalling the past, the old man shook his head gently, his eyes full of longing.

He silently walked over to the young bird, his old hand brushing his illusory feathers.

Suddenly, he froze, his whole hand stopped there, trembling.

It turned out that the "crossing" that his descendants often said in his mouth actually happened to him, a dead person, and now, he needs to compete with a young bird for a chance to live.

The old man sat decadently on the side, his hands over his face, full of pain.

I can't go back, I can't go back.

Since his wife left, he is more in love with life than he is longing for death, and Mohu's eyes make him unable to see her in the photo, so he has to constantly wipe the photo with his wrinkled hands.

The tears in her eyes seemed to wash away the lake and make her clearer.

I want to see that face again, even if it is so old and wrinkled; I want to hold that hand again, even if time adds a ravine to it.

I remember all your joys, sorrows, and sorrows, but I'd rather forget everything and just see you for real.

Just one glance!

The old man raised his head and looked at the sky, a sense of strangeness and separation that filled his heart.

Lonely, heh! It's been a long time since I've been lonely again!

He looked at the young bird, his eyes with unprecedented softness, this was the closest "person" he had in this strange world, a soul connection.

"Live well, I won't tell you my name, I won't tell you any of my experiences, live in this world without any scruples. You will be happy."

When a person dies, does he still have the right to decide his own life and death?

I don't know, but this old man did give up on life.

In this world, there is nothing he is nostalgic for, except for the young birds in front of him.

His body was slowly melting, and starlight floated out of his body, floating above the young bird, and suddenly exploded, scattering a field of colorful colors.

They gather into a cloud that envelops the young birds, and as he retracts and shrinks, he sucks them in and out them.

Look young

The bird's phantom slowly solidified, and the old man's face showed a relieved smile, the tradition of life and death from childhood to adulthood made it difficult for him to accept plundering a life in exchange for the continuation of his own life.

The wind is blowing.

The old man raised his illusory palm, feeling the coolness of the wind, he smiled and slowly closed his eyes.

Like dust, like a jewel. He lost his body.

With the young bird as the center, fragments of shimmering colors surrounded him, swirling like planetary belts.

A little bit of pure white light emerged from the star wheel as it rotated and was absorbed by the young bird in the center.

Watching him grow up little by little, Ralph also learned the origin of his dreams.

The young bird in the middle is his soul, and the star wheel around the soul is the memory of the old man's life.

In his memory, there is information about this world, but it is incomplete.

But as the old man gave up his life, some of the essence of his soul also appeared within the star wheel.

These essences seem to be able to resonate with heaven and earth, retrieving the information transmitted by heaven and earth according to the fragments of memory.

As the two interact more and more, the information in the memory of the old man will be overwritten by the facts of the world.

That is, dream divination will become real divination, not a deduction based on specious memories.

Ralph came back to his senses and looked at the kind old man in front of him.

"Are you still alive?"

The old man smiled happily and shook his head.

"I don't know, all I can tell you is that I can't go to the world of the dead for a while, and I'm surprised that I can still wake up."

Looking at Ralph's complicated expression, the old man still smiled, touched his head, patted him, and turned back into a thunderbird.

"It's still comfortable to look at like this, it seems that my influence on you is still too great. Remember, you are a bird, not a man."

"Why do I think you're cursing?"

"Hahaha, I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

The old man was amused by Ralph's answer, and the baby in his arms opened his eyes even wider, looking at the Ralph in front of him, who had changed from a man to a thunderbird.

The two communicated, and most of them were old people reassuring Ralph and telling him not to doubt his life because of him.

Seeing Ralph's mood gradually ease, the old man still sighed inwardly, some things are planted and it is not so easy to think about them.

Fortunately, Ralph is not human, and his mind is not so complicated.

Will people who have really died be willing to live once?

Anyway, the old man is unwilling, there is no one in this world who is deeply involved in him.

"Do you have any concerns?"

Ralph asked.

"Concerned?"

The old man fell into the memory, the children can be on their own, and the grandchildren do not need to worry about themselves.

What else?

He thought, a light flashed in his heart, it was the country that gave birth to him and raised him!

"I want to know, whether her people are happy and healthy, whether her footprints have stepped into the sea of stars, and whether she has ushered in the prosperous era for which countless people have fought for their lives?"

"Is it the East? I'll go see it for you." Ralph said.

"No, no. What I want to know is my motherland, the motherland that gave birth to me and raised me."

"My whole life has been ordinary and unremarkable."

The old man said, looking at Ralph.

"The only thing to be commended for is perhaps giving life back to you. Remember, it's always been yours, not my gift."