When I got down to the last stone step, I finally couldn't help but look back at him, just like the sixteen-year-old who once cherished admiration and had hope, or the eighteen-year-old who had broken hopes and was still lucky.
I have turned back to him countless times in the past, and I could still see his face when I looked back countless times. But this time, he stood on one side in front of the hall door with his back to me, raising his head slightly as if he was looking into the Buddhist hall. I couldn't see his face, but I could see how tall the golden Buddha in the hall was. It was so tall that the boy who I had regarded as a towering tree many years ago seemed to have shrunk.
For a moment, I suddenly understood what the old abbot said to me many years ago: "To some things, people are as small as dust."
With the sound of wooden fish, I pushed open the temple door. I knew that this was the end...
Intention: Haven't thought of it yet