There is a loquat tree in the courtyard. My wife planted it the year she died. It is now as tall as a canopy.
On the day she died, she only asked one question:
"Did the loquats bear fruit?"
Later every summer,
He was all standing under that tree.
Someone asked him if it was worth it.
He said:
"All living beings suffer."
"When you hold her tightly, it's the only sweetness."
A trace of Wan, a trace of people, a trace of landscape and dust.
She bleeds to.
——"One Trace of Wan"
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Run by AI.