The 12-year-old me is like the evening breeze, the 13-year-old me is like strong wine, the 14-year-old me is like the breeze, and the 15-year-old me is like the fire. When I was 16, I was like a gentle breeze, when I was 17, I was like the scorching sun, when I was 18, I was like a strong wind, and when I was 19, I was like a fierce horse. The 20-year-old me is like a ray of fire on a cold winter night, like a breeze in the heat of summer. When I am about to turn 21, I hope that I can be like the fragrance of flowers drifting in the spring breeze, or like the golden leaves scattered in autumn.