When dusk soaks the sky, the city's outline is awakened by millions of lights, forming a flowing sea of neon - the red is as hot as the heartbeat, the blue is as calm as the tide, and the purple is hazy like unspoken thoughts, surging and overflowing between the buildings, dyeing the night sky into a translucent beauty.
At this moment, the evening breeze, carrying the remaining warmth of the day, gently passed over this "sea". It lifts the clothes of passers-by, blows away the heat of the coffee on the street corner, and makes the neon light and shadow create fine ripples on the asphalt road; it passes through the railings of the overpass, brushes the lighted signs in the windows, and conveys "Returning Late", "Waiting" and "Reunion" The words "" are crumpled into swaying spots of light; it will also stop by the benches by the river, accompanying late-night runners across the sparkling river surface, watching the reflection of neon lights in the water intertwined with the starlight, and it is difficult to tell which is the fireworks on earth and which is the stars in the sky.
