Fables About the Four Seasons, Wordless Songs

I have been trying to comfort myself that the passage of time is not disappearing or getting older, but the dust of certain things and the maturation of mentality. Youth is like a grand sacrifice that begins in silence and expectation and ends in desolation and despair. The beginning and end are both silent gestures, but what is experienced and felt are two gestures. I have been thinking about how my youth started and how it will end? Like all confused wanderers, I have been wandering and reminiscing, not knowing where to stay or where to end. After spending the whole winter in a daze, spring finally arrived in my expectation. Youth is gradually dying, without any memorial or condolences, leaving without a trace. I began to become confused and desperate on this sunny spring day. In the evening, the setting sun turned the sky red, and the slanted residual light shone on my face through the curtains. My eyes were red, and I crawled on the table and cried inexplicably for a long time. At this age, melancholy is the symbol of youth, but as time passes, loving you has nothing to do with loneliness. After crying, laughing, and feeling pain, I understand the taste of happiness better. We know or are strangers to each other. The arrival of spring is like the sunset in the whole world. Wandering in a strange city, you appeared behind me inadvertently. Time is like the wind, it brings your breath when it blows forward. How many years later, when I look back at that year, I realize that I grew up that year. They said that I am a nostalgic child who often looks at a photo and listens to a song. Only I know how much those things that I say I don't care about affect my mood. No one can understand my crying, just like they don't understand my smile. I have always been accustomed to being a quiet child, smiling, crying, sleeping, and feeling lost alone. Time is always long. In those days when we looked at each other in silence, I used all my silence to fill the gap in that period of time. However, one day, at a certain place, I suddenly heard a voice saying: You only have one day left before death. I began to become panicked and at a loss. I stood on the busy street and looked around helplessly. The moment I looked back, I seemed to have missed something, such as a certain person or a smiling face. What I always saw were hurried footsteps and blurred backs. Time passes slowly through the fingertips like an hourglass, and those memories with a rotten smell float in this spring evening. I try to forget, or rather forget all the time, formatting the things that have happened and those that have not happened into time outside of memory. Memories of youth, green love, blurred family affection and incomplete friendship. I try hard to collect those warm pictures and use happy words to penetrate the seasons of youth. Everything seems to be in vain. Those pictures shining with cold light are like cold shackles, entangling the dreams of my entire youth. The wind blows gently, listening to the soothing music reminds me of you in another city. In this way, I will remember you in the quietest moments around me. Remember your face, draw you in my heart. My journey up to this point has gained a unique feeling just because you are there in the scenery where things are right and people are different, you are my favorite. There was a confused gray outside the window, and several cars passed by at intervals. The memory was picked up again, and my shadow was wrongly here. And at this moment, who is waiting for you with endless youth. ­ I'm finally growing up, I'm finally growing up. No one will tolerate my willfulness, my stubbornness, and my bad temper anymore, because I have grown up. Like a child lost in a dream, he is suddenly forced to face this mottled and ferocious world. No one knew, and when I finally realized this, I almost cried sadly. ——Preface by Tang Di Sui