A story about time, ideals and the future that took place in 1999.
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Hearing gunshots in his own chest for no apparent reason
I recorded it and played it back, and found out it was just the sound of rain.
A small death chilled the universe
I hung up the portrait and discovered that it was just a ruthless custom
Singing like wildfire, trying to burn something down
The wildfire of self-denial that I once loved
After farewell, the horses shook their bells - the mountains and rivers turned red and green
I am snow, the heat on the horse's mane turns into a following spirit
——Liao Weitang's "Song of the Carriage"
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It is expected to be completed with 200,000+ words, and will be updated on the 7th and 21st of every month.
Intention: cannot be empty