From the time Thirty-three brought El to the top of the tree, I knew he would lie to him. From the time Thirty-three said "blue", I guessed that it couldn't see colors. From the time Thirty-three truly became a mage, I guessed that it would die to save others. From the time Thirty-three fell in love, I guessed that he would be eaten. From the time when I met Chu Chu, I guessed that El would die to save her - all of this is too simple, too pure and cannot be concealed - but even if I had guessed it all, even if everything was within my expectation, I still burst into tears -
What kind of emotion can make a butterfly feel so sad for a praying mantis?
Perhaps it is because of such pure, strong and almost brutal frankness that fairy tales are unobstructed and irresistible.
What is a fairy tale? I think fairy tales are common memories, because they are a common essence, something we all know very well, but cannot help but burst into tears.
When I was writing about Andersen, I wrote a sentence, and the fairy tale itself is not the same: "Perhaps some people in this world will forget this year and will not know who the president of the country is, but no one will not know his name - because everyone was once a child."
I'm going to keep this fairy tale and hope to read it with my kids one day!
This is undoubtedly a beautiful fairy tale. "The Butterfly Wizard" by Urenos. It has a long-lost fresh smell, just like the smell that comes from nature after rain, such as the wilderness and forest.
When I read about Butterfly Mage Il learning that Thirty-Three couldn't identify colors, my eyes instantly became moist, and a big tear came out of my right eye - really, only one right eye - definitely only one, I swear.
It's not that I'm stingy. It has been a long time since I was moved to tears by such a wonderful soul-stirring experience. When was the last time? By the way, that was when I read the end of Barrel Rider's "Searching for Hell's Nati" last year - although I had a premonition of the outcome from the beginning, I was still shaken in the end.
These days, it is easy for people to shed tears. Media such as television and the Internet throw tragic, sensational, and painful stories in front of us that have happened, are happening, may happen, and cannot happen in the world. It is impossible not to shed tears.
These days, it is not easy for people to shed tears, because they hear and see more, those who are not used to it gradually get used to it, and those who have long been used to it start to become indifferent.
The more tears flow, the more they become diluted, diluting the emotion and the value. When we are sympathetic, sad, or moved to tears, we will instinctively open the door of our souls, and a large amount of diluted tears and emotions will flow in and out, but not much will be left behind.
The hospital was about to be expanded, and people cut down the big tree on which countless creatures depended for survival. The silver-leaf spirit also disappeared, and El cried sadly on the iron head of the fountain. Tie Liaoda said to El: "You are also a fountain head." - Seeing this, I smiled, a little helplessly.
However, some tears can be treasured. ——No, it may not be a treasure, because it suddenly penetrates into the depths of the soul. Such as today's one. There, it was not alone at all, it quickly merged with some other tears. I can even imagine them meeting and saying hello:
"Hi! I'm a snowflake that melts with the Happy Prince!"
"I am the fire beneath the tin soldier, and my countenance is evil."
"'The last extinguished matchstick in the little match girl's hand' is my full name. What is your name?"
"Hello, I am a spray on the tail of the mermaid princess. It's a pity that I can't go ashore with her."
Perhaps there is also a timid lamb - the little prince's lamb, the mute lamb - because it wears a sheep's muzzle; and there is the brave boy Atreyu sitting on the pearl-white auspicious dragon and tiger, who solemnly asks: "Are you also the water of life?"
"Yes," I answered with tears, "I come from the tentacles of the butterfly mage Il, and from the friendship between Il and the mantis' Thirty-three Consecutive Slashes of Crushing Aphids, I am called the Dew of Life."
I cried. The author's writing is really good.
The charm of fairy tales is that they never fade.
This fairy tale is very beautiful. I really read an amazing fairy tale.
I'm so glad that I was ignorant and didn't know that Mantis was color blind, so I felt the relationship between Thirty-three and El even more.
I'm so touched. If he can be put on the screen and made into a cartoon like Hollywood, it will definitely become a classic cartoon in China.
If the tree is gone, will there still be a butterfly mage in the future? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Woohoo, so cruel
From the time Thirty-three brought El to the top of the tree, I knew he would lie to him. From the time Thirty-three said "blue", I guessed that it couldn't see colors. From the time Thirty-three truly became a mage, I guessed that it would die to save others. From the time Thirty-three fell in love, I guessed that he would be eaten. From the time when I met Chu Chu, I guessed that El would die to save her - all of this is too simple, too pure and cannot be concealed - but even if I had guessed it all, even if everything was within my expectation, I still burst into tears - What kind of emotion can make a butterfly feel so sad for a praying mantis? Perhaps it is because of such pure, strong and almost brutal frankness that fairy tales are unobstructed and irresistible. What is a fairy tale? I think fairy tales are common memories, because they are a common essence, something we all know very well, but cannot help but burst into tears. When I was writing about Andersen, I wrote a sentence, and the fairy tale itself is not the same: "Perhaps some people in this world will forget this year and will not know who the president of the country is, but no one will not know his name - because everyone was once a child."
I'm going to keep this fairy tale and hope to read it with my kids one day!
This is undoubtedly a beautiful fairy tale. "The Butterfly Wizard" by Urenos. It has a long-lost fresh smell, just like the smell that comes from nature after rain, such as the wilderness and forest. When I read about Butterfly Mage Il learning that Thirty-Three couldn't identify colors, my eyes instantly became moist, and a big tear came out of my right eye - really, only one right eye - definitely only one, I swear. It's not that I'm stingy. It has been a long time since I was moved to tears by such a wonderful soul-stirring experience. When was the last time? By the way, that was when I read the end of Barrel Rider's "Searching for Hell's Nati" last year - although I had a premonition of the outcome from the beginning, I was still shaken in the end. These days, it is easy for people to shed tears. Media such as television and the Internet throw tragic, sensational, and painful stories in front of us that have happened, are happening, may happen, and cannot happen in the world. It is impossible not to shed tears. These days, it is not easy for people to shed tears, because they hear and see more, those who are not used to it gradually get used to it, and those who have long been used to it start to become indifferent. The more tears flow, the more they become diluted, diluting the emotion and the value. When we are sympathetic, sad, or moved to tears, we will instinctively open the door of our souls, and a large amount of diluted tears and emotions will flow in and out, but not much will be left behind. The hospital was about to be expanded, and people cut down the big tree on which countless creatures depended for survival. The silver-leaf spirit also disappeared, and El cried sadly on the iron head of the fountain. Tie Liaoda said to El: "You are also a fountain head." - Seeing this, I smiled, a little helplessly. However, some tears can be treasured. ——No, it may not be a treasure, because it suddenly penetrates into the depths of the soul. Such as today's one. There, it was not alone at all, it quickly merged with some other tears. I can even imagine them meeting and saying hello: "Hi! I'm a snowflake that melts with the Happy Prince!" "I am the fire beneath the tin soldier, and my countenance is evil." "'The last extinguished matchstick in the little match girl's hand' is my full name. What is your name?" "Hello, I am a spray on the tail of the mermaid princess. It's a pity that I can't go ashore with her." Perhaps there is also a timid lamb - the little prince's lamb, the mute lamb - because it wears a sheep's muzzle; and there is the brave boy Atreyu sitting on the pearl-white auspicious dragon and tiger, who solemnly asks: "Are you also the water of life?" "Yes," I answered with tears, "I come from the tentacles of the butterfly mage Il, and from the friendship between Il and the mantis' Thirty-three Consecutive Slashes of Crushing Aphids, I am called the Dew of Life."
I cried. The author's writing is really good.
The charm of fairy tales is that they never fade.
This fairy tale is very beautiful. I really read an amazing fairy tale.
I'm so glad that I was ignorant and didn't know that Mantis was color blind, so I felt the relationship between Thirty-three and El even more.
I'm so touched. If he can be put on the screen and made into a cartoon like Hollywood, it will definitely become a classic cartoon in China.
If the tree is gone, will there still be a butterfly mage in the future? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?