Most travelers in our time are suffering from a disease. We are used to using the decompression of airplane cabins to escape the stress of real life; we use perfumes and coffee stains from foreign countries to cover up the earthy smell of origin and blood that cannot be washed away. The man named Lin Yi in the book is the most exquisite and cowardly epitome of us.
Opening this book, you will follow Lin Yi, starting from the ancient well soaked in detergent and family guilt, passing through the delicate but prickly Paris, and passing through the violent and traceless Sahara. When you read to the end and watch Lin Yi taking heavy and steady steps back home with his body covered with dust and sobriety, I hope you can also touch your pockets.
Look there, see if there is also a pen stuck in the sand, but eager to write "the way home".
Intention: Use the prosperity and sophistication of the distant place to cover up and escape the poverty of one's origins and the guilt towards one's parents.