When Lei Xin woke up, the sky outside the window had just brightened. The light coming through the dusty glass cast a faint beam of light in the small room. The bedside, floor, and walls gradually showed their outlines. Lei Xin opened his red and swollen eyes and looked at their faint yellow lines, ethereal. , Quiet, without texture, the tiny floating dust in the air floats quietly, rises, and sinks. There is no wind in the room, but the tiny dust dances everywhere. Those light beams are like their stage. The dancers on the stage are conspicuous and bright. The dust around is vying to express itself, as if that is the only purpose of existence.
Lei Xin looked at them and closed his eyes again.
Conception: