Qingxi under the shadow of fern is still young, rippling with quiet waves, trickling through the winding canal, taking away the leaves that have long drifted away and flowing into the distance. There is a bunch of wild lilies in the corner where few people come.
Deep in the shade, a beautiful face blooms; In places forgotten by time and spring, they grow, open, wither and wither, and turn into spring mud in the next year, and so on.
She blooms not for spring, nor for applause and praise-just for herself.
In order to live only once, shouldn't it be beautiful?
crossroads
I stand at the crossroads, confused and don't know where to go. South? To the north? Jin Dong? Westbound?
The wind, blowing in my ear, didn't give me an answer.
Someone told me that if you go on bravely and choose, don't look back. I don't have the courage to choose.
Maybe every road has its own destination; Maybe every road, the scenery along the way is completely different; Maybe this road is full of haze, and that road is sunny …
But as long as you keep going, there will always be a paradise.
I took a step and left the crossroads.
If you choose, don't look back.