After that night, Xiuxiu continued to live her life and do housework as if nothing had happened. The subtle cracking sound in my heart, fluttering, lingering. He did it numbly, his hands and feet were not his own. I raised my head and looked at the sky. I saw a grid of damp and pale sky, tinged with grey. The wind blew through the branches. Holding someone's lantern. That warm red. Xiu Xiu was fascinated. Generally settled. The fire-colored light danced. Cluster after cluster. Xiuxiu thought of many things. Thoughts of death. The things I think about are like the light, pulsing slightly. It's all imagery, intermittently. A movie that is incomplete without a beginning or a tail. Xiuxiu thought of this trip. What are you doing? What is he thinking. Xiuxiu has no clue. Xiuxiu found that she didn't understand him at all. She once thought that she was the person closest to him, and that only he understood her. Xiuxiu looked at the light that was about to go out. It gets dark. In a vast world, only that beam of light is still there. It turns out that Xiuxiu was just a dream. The journey, that beam of light between heaven and earth. It turns out that it is in front of someone else's door. It cannot be held in the hand or hidden in the chest. Xiuxiu stretched out her hand and slowly retracted her fingers. In fact, there is nothing in the palm of my hand. A gesture. Not even anyone to appreciate it. Xiuxiu dances independently in the dark night. The posture slowly becomes empty. Xiu Xiu doesn't know what is her own