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This book is a collection of essays by the famous essayist Ling Shijiang, and is also one of the "Chengdu Writers' Book Series". This is the daily life of a stranger who migrated from Tibet to the world. It is fruitful, fragrant and not wasted. Time is with him, past events are falling, grass is growing in the soil, flowers are blooming, trees are growing, and feelings are flowing. When Tibet has become a writer's back, facing the mortal world, he returns to his daily life, to the feelings of ordinary people's life, making writing an unchosen realization from the depths of his soul. It is a conscious behavior, a permeation of the pure breath of life, and the same place where the writer and the reader live equally. It is a way to return to the ordinary passing years and restore reality, so that readers can get relaxed, pleasant and confident reading, so as to understand and accept the authenticity and warmth of this world.

In the year of Ding Chou, I spent an unforgettable eighteenth birthday on the Sino-Indian border. Anil, the Indian colonel on the other side of the barbed wire, gave me a mysterious gift. The wind at Tawang Pass is very lonely, but the sentry stationed here is not lonely, just a little bored. Because that war forgotten by history gradually faded from people's memory. However, the border situation is still not very stable, and NEFA (Southern Tibet) continues to become the focus of international media. I noticed that Anil was an Indian military colonel who didn't need to be too vigilant. He was wearing a dark-colored nylon jacket, and his horsehide boots had lost their luster in the company of sunshine and snowflakes. His jet-black hair must have been waxed, and he was more handsome than the leading actor in the movie "The Wanderer." He clasped his hands together, sat on the grass and closed his eyes to meditate. At dusk, I saw him holding a newspaper in his hand, and the green smoke in his pipe was like cow dung burning Deji grass.