"Chen'er." I looked at the hazy figure standing in front of me through the gauze that covered my face. The bonfire behind me was burning and crackling, illuminating the entire high platform. I was surrounded by the matchmaker's joyful laughter, and the world was a festive red.
I thought I was happy. Slowly stretch out your hand, with the beautiful hope of "holding your hand and growing old together" as the Chinese call it, and entrusting all of yourself to the person in front of you.
However, I thought that after all, I just thought that maybe I was in a dream, and dreams were always too beautiful, and I couldn't stand the cold water poured on me by reality for too long.
The world went silent, and my hand awkwardly stopped in mid-air, with no one holding it. The sudden cold sting on my neck hurt my eyes with the sharp edge of a knife. He turned his back, carrying my shattered hopes.
Conception: