When I was ten years old, someone handed me a candy under the locust tree at the entrance of the village.
She put the candy on the ground, squatted down and looked at me levelly, and said -
"Your eyes are so pretty."
That was the first time anyone looked at me like that.
Not pity, not sympathy, just seeing.
Then I became a story writer.
Readers say there is light in my writing.
They don't know that I stole that light.
I put the same person in every book and give her the best of everything.
It seems that this afternoon can be saved.
Later, I died.
I really couldn't hold on to the torture day after day, so I wrote my life into my last novel.
When I woke up again, I was in my own book.
Everything was going according to the tragedy I wrote - until she appeared.
I do not understand.
I don't know if this is redemption or just a hallucination that I'm crazy about.
I only know,
When she looked at me, there was light in her eyes.
It was exactly the same as that afternoon under the locust tree many years ago.
Intention: Only by loving yourself can you love others