To say it's not sour would be a lie.
Although I can see the beautiful tree, I cannot know the rustling sound of its leaves when the wind blows. Looking at the small cicada, I cannot imagine its beautiful singing. People come and go, and I see only their passing shadows in my eyes. What remains in my heart is an extremely quiet loneliness.
There was a wind blowing, but no sound could be heard.
I laughed.
Let me introduce myself again.
My name is Ye Wenxu, who is deaf and mute, and I am a tailor.