Once you pick it up, it doesn't matter whether you put it down or not. But if you don't get involved, all you see are other people's stories. If you aren't attracted, you won't come here. So it doesn't matter what kind of role you are, I just want to quietly participate in it.
——Inscription
"Everyone has his own life, his own story, his own splendor, and every story is a splendor that burns out the glory of life. But there are also people who are willing to be storytellers and burn out their lives while reading stories." The girl sitting at the table wrote these words on the notebook spread out on the table.
The lights suddenly started to flicker, the wind blew quietly, and everything seemed quiet.
"Oh, maybe I am just a spectator." After humming, the girl stood up, moved lightly, and stood in front of the bookcase. "Maybe I can also be a story creator." The girl raised her hand and took down an ancient book with a yellowed cover and murmured.
The night is quieter.
There was no one in the hut just now, only the breeze was blowing.