When Xu Songheng was seven years old, her grandmother dug out a palm-sized ebony box from the bottom of a camphor box in her old house. The wooden box has a texture that resembles a dragon's branches. The corners are smooth and smooth, and a small faded gold buckle is embedded in the fastener. It feels cool to the touch, like a piece of moonlight that cannot be melted. Grandma said that this was an old thing passed down from the Xu family and had been stored for countless generations, so she asked him to keep it. At that time, Xu Songheng was at an age where he was greedy for novelty. He regarded the wooden box as a treasure and stuffed it under his pillow when he slept. At night, he always dreamed of the vague silhouette of the palace, and a young man in a brocade robe, whose eyebrows were as bright as stars, but he couldn't see clearly.
Intention: random thoughts