Fan Wenyi:
The warm sun in winter shines obliquely on the eaves, white pigeons fly around, and the blue sky and white clouds are soaked with moisture. In the days of seclusion, there is no snowflake in the sky, enjoying a person's leisure, without looking at other people's faces, drinking a cup of tea with the sun and the moon, being yourself quietly, and experiencing the happiness of ordinary people in a dish.
Fan Wener:
Actually, I don't want to. But the oncoming wind is so strong that it will blow me down. These winds, carrying the sharp weapon of the times, pry open my eyes and ears, nose and mouth, and my soul, trying to instill what I want and what I don't want. My body is as heavy as lead. When I walk, half of my body stands up, and the other half can only drag on the ground and become a shadow. At this time, I really want to practice my empty fist, dig out my heart, take out the extra things and fight easily with my hands instead of being my enemy.
Fan Wensan:
There is no need to wait for a heavy snow to cover up the falsehood. Even though the sun has been shining in the sky for three or nine days, the wind is still very cold. Outside the window on the eighteenth floor, birds are still fighting for food, just one piece, such as a candy the size of a coin, and the two playmates don't give in to each other. The so-called letting go can't solve practical problems. Simply let all the encounters become necessary experiences, let the mirror no longer have the ability to distinguish right from wrong, let the blind fortune teller burn with anger, and let all the injuries become through the hidden ghosts.