Father's Relic

The first time I saw him was at his father's wedding. Standing next to the elderly man was a thin, pale but fragile and delicate young man. He is like a lily that blooms secretly in midsummer, blooming the whitest petals in this dirty and muddy land. The slender branches strive to grow toward the sun, but they are unable to protect their purity. They only make people want to grab them and break them with force. Listening to other people's congratulations, the smile on the corner of the young man's mouth that he should call his little dad was very forced, and the brokenness in his eyes made people feel inexplicably distressed. Korol held the wine glass and looked across the crowd at the young man. From what others said about him, he was forced to do so. He was threatened by his family, had his wings broken off, and was imprisoned. Some people also say that he is doing it for profit, money, and wealth. Korol didn't know and didn't understand him. The second time we met was at his father's funeral. The man was still thin and thin, wearing white clothes, but something in his eyes had changed. Little daddy, literature! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Don't worry too much about this crappy subject matter. Vision: A world of love and tolerance