In the old days, I was content in the mountains, with a gentle breeze circling my home. The changing light of morning and evening in the woods was my childhood. I once had everything, but time moved on and all things changed. In the end, it all drifted away on the wind and vanished like smoke. Later, I traveled far away, taking in the misty rain of Jiangnan and the morning light along the coast. I watched the clouds gather and disperse from mountain peaks, and witnessed the passing of days and nights across the human world.
After that, I wandered from place to place, pursuing my dream of flying beneath blue skies by the coast in Qingdao, only to say goodbye to it in turn. Cherry blossoms fell in spring, carrying the memories of my innocent youth.
At last, I hiked across alpine meadows, through snowy plateaus and Gobi deserts, and over countless rivers and mountains, with long winds and drifting clouds for company. When snow covered the peaks, I sat quietly in the wilderness, gazing up at the vast sky amid a sea of flowers in full bloom. The mountains and rivers I had crossed, the years gone by, every rise and fall of my past, all found peace with the wind in this tranquil wilderness. This is my mountains and forests.
I was completely moved by the writing style of this book. I originally thought it was a workplace article, but it turned out to be a healing journey through life. Running from the mountains and forests of my hometown to the distant mountains and seas, the wandering and relief along the way are particularly moving. The fresh and nostalgic writing style becomes more and more popular as I read. I look forward to subsequent updates.