Over the course of one night and one autumn, I have chanted the Buddha's name for more than ten years and dreamed about it once, only to realize the direction of my destiny. Sometimes it is not the work of human beings. I will write down how many flowers have fallen in the dream. Even if I answer that sentence, others will laugh at me for being too crazy. I laugh at others for not being able to see through it. I have read too many novels and have been picky. Although I am a novice, I always feel that there is something in it. It's as if it's destined to be a dream on the string.
