This novel was written very quickly, with nearly 50,000 words completed in three days. I have imagined such a story more than once, a world I imagined, in which people like me live, and which contains all my most personal understandings of the good and the bad.
I feel like I am Linfeng, standing in the vast yellow sand desert singing a song that only my sister can understand, relying on my jade flute and the long sword in my hand, with eyes so deep that I can penetrate the saddest corners and ice in people's hearts; I feel like I am Linche, who has always regarded one person as my support, and for my brother, I have taken on the love that does not belong to me again and again. Emotions and sorrows, my sadness; I feel that I am Liu Ruxu, a child who is born to feel that he has been forgotten, sitting under the numerous willow trees I planted, missing the people I miss, and loving the love that does not belong to me; I feel that I am Yin Bu Chang, and my flowers, so lonely and gorgeous blooming, are more like the endless ice and snow and music on the top of Tianmang Mountain...
I feel like I am them. The soul flowing from the tip of my pen gradually takes shape in a person's mind, venting their emotions, their stories, and the words he wants to say but cannot say in an unreal world.
I write very quickly because I have always been writing about my own thoughts and emotions, because I am a lonely child, and because I have no other stage to talk to other than writing.
If you like, then...
Please read on quietly, quietly.
Thanks.