Breathing in the night wind, a familiar, slightly cold breath immediately filled me. The smell of the wind changes with the seasons, but the wind is the same every year. The wind tonight is no different from the wind when I was lying on a bamboo chair and counting the stars when I was young. It is also no different from the wind when I stood next to the window and looked into the distance. But I know that this is all in the past, and time has been flowing and woven into my life.