The Immortal Prisoner of Time

There is a dilapidated house that cannot be left.

There is an old locust tree bearing seventy-three pieces of amber.

There is a person who has lived for twelve hundred years.

Every day, he sits on the threshold, looking toward the low mountain.

There is a river over there called Xiaohe River.

There is a mountain over there called Shenshu Mountain.

He cannot see.

Later, a little girl runs in.

She crouches in front of the clay figurine and speaks to the amber.

She says, “Good morning, A Yue! Good morning, Stone! Good morning, Grandma!”

She says, “Uncle Shen, the river will keep you company.”

The wind blows, and the wind chime rings.

In twelve hundred years, this is the first time anyone has said those words to him.