Her life was a grand escape.
Escape from the gilded cage to his arms, and then from blazing love to eternal tranquility.
She is like glass, transparent and fragile, but contains sharp light.
She was never truly tamed, never truly warmed.
She finally transformed into true freedom - no longer escaping, but dissipating, like wind, like dust, like a gentle sigh, blending into heaven and earth, no longer bound.
Her name is "Nian'an" and she misses peace; her name is "Yun'an" and she promises freedom.
She herself is the most beautiful interpretation and end of freedom.
Until I discovered that all warmth has the shape of shackles.
She finally lived in the rice fields of the south of the Yangtze River, listening to the dialect like singing, and letting the peasant women caress her slightly swollen belly with their rough hands.
Like the wind blowing through the waves of wheat, like dust passing through the beam of light, like a sigh that was too late to catch.
——It turns out that the most beautiful freedom is actually the gentlest nothingness in the world.
