On a September evening, thirty-nine-year-old Xu Zhisen sat in an armchair. The dusk mist hung on the horizon, a thin layer, and he became a silhouette in the sunset.
A vague figure of a man emerged from the forest in the distance. His body, face and eyes were all hidden in the darkness. He only stretched out a slender hand to rest on the tree trunk bathed in deep yellow light. The man seemed to stare at Xu Zhisen for a long time, but then turned around and disappeared into the dim woods.
The next day, a group of strangers came to the door. They took a photo and asked Xu Zhisen if he had seen this person. The man in the photo is sixteen or seventeen years old, with a slender face and an outline that looks very much like the figure that appeared in the woods yesterday.
Xu Zhisen was afraid of getting into trouble, so he replied that he had never seen the young man in the photo. Waiting for this group of people to leave, as night fell again, the slender figure slowly moved out of the forest. . . . .
When Xu Zhisen started writing at the age of fifty, he wanted to remember these sad people and past events forever.
Purpose: To encourage people's hearts and promote love and bravery