When Shen Lanxi fell on the workstation, she still had the plan to change to the seventh version spread out in her hand. When she opened her eyes again, the ceiling of the ward was dazzlingly white, the smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils, and there was a space as big as a palm hidden deep between her eyebrows - it was the last remnant of her three-hundred-year career as an orchid elf.
She was punished by the Flower God and possessed this overdrafted body. My parents came over overnight and said with red eyes, "We're not going to work anymore. We won't be able to take that class." So she followed the dusty van back to the old yard left by her grandma, pushed open the rusty iron door, and saw wild flowers growing wildly in the yard swaying towards her.
Under the soil, countless tiny voices were whispering - she smelled like flowers. She didn't know magic, so she could only squat in the vegetable field, put her palms against the soil, and whisper, "I will take good care of you." From then on, the old jujube tree quietly stretched its roots under her window at night, and the first seed planted climbed half of the courtyard wall in three days. The strawberries she grew were so sweet that it made people want to cry, the pergolas she built at random attracted lost landscape designers, and the herbs she cultivated made traditional Chinese medicine doctors from the provincial capital unable to move. My best friend Fang Xiaoman came right after smelling the smell of strawberries, carrying a camera and filming the pastoral life into a video that hit the entire internet.
Grandpa Lin, who lives alone next door, brought a handful of selected beans. He has limited legs and feet, but his eyes are like an eagle. Later I found out that it was an old general who injured his leg on the battlefield. His grandson Lin Chen lived on the other side of the village and locked himself in the yard and refused to see anyone. But when Shen Lanxi knocked on the door with a basket of freshly picked grapes, the silent man in the door smelled the long-lost wind carrying the freshness of vegetation...
