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Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

About a young man who no longer wants to live Lu Yuan, 28 years old, has been drifting to Beijing for six years He was laid off three months ago. Two months ago, his girlfriend of four years left him. A month ago, his savings hit bottom. Now, he was standing on the rooftop of the twelfth floor, considering whether to go down. A text message from China Mobile reminded him that his phone balance was insufficient. He thought for a moment and didn't jump. It's not because you've figured it out, it's because the world doesn't stop just because you want to die. The street lights are still on, the supermarkets are still open, and 10086 is still sending text messages. Your pain is your business. But what to do next? He doesn't know. About a person who has been waiting all his life Grandma Lin, 76 years old, retired teacher. He sat on the bench at the entrance of the community every evening, from the time the sun set to the time the street lights came on, rain or shine. Neighbors said she was waiting for someone, someone who promised her sixty years ago that she would come back. The man never came back, but she was still waiting. Lu Yuan felt very pitiful when he saw her for the first time, but later he realized that it was himself who was pitiful, and he didn't even have anyone to wait for.

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Cellist Wen Wan was in the piano room in the early morning and heard the heartbeat coming from deep in the wall. That's not an illusion. That's the "string" - the frequency at which everything vibrates. Every demolished building, every river filled up, and every forgotten person is crying with its own unique voice. Her shield was shattered and she became a "string listener" who could hear the strings. A man named Shen Shi found her. He is the "tuner" who can use his memory to recall forgotten things. The price is: every time you recall, you lose a piece of memory. He no longer remembers his mother's face. Wen Wan doesn't tune the strings with her heartbeat - she uses the cello. When the forgotten memories accumulated over hundreds of years begin to disappear at the same time, and when silence engulfs the entire city, she must make a choice: use her own memory to recall everyone, or silence those voices forever? This is not a story about strength. This is a story about memory, about sounds, and about people the world has forgotten.

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The young man started out as a passerby in the city, holding a square-inch screen in his hand, galloping through the canyon. Pingwu is full of edge, and the young man is moving forward. From an unknown passerby to the professional arena, he will use the most ordinary starting point to create the most dazzling legend.

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!

There are two monsters in Jiangcheng. One is the aloof academic god Xu Ci, who is unreasonable, and the other is the idiot beauty Xia Zhilu who is obsessed with nature. Xia Zhi unfortunately became Xu Ci's deskmate. The whole school was betting on how many days this "little sun" could last without getting frostbite. However-- Xia Zhi got single digits in her math test. Xu Ci slapped the test paper on the table: "Forget it, you're stupid. Come here and I'll teach you." Xia Zhi was confessed by the boy in the next class. Xu Ci picked up her schoolbag with one hand and said in a cold tone: "If he can't do it, let me do it." Xia Zhi: "???" Later, when Xia Zhi was sorting out old books, she found a yellowed diary. Inside was a candid photo of her, with Xu Ciqing's powerful handwriting on the back: "The evening breeze knows my wishes and blows my dreams to Xizhou. Xia Zhi, I have been waiting for you for a long time." It turns out that all the reunions after a long absence were all planned by him.

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Five years ago, Xia Zhi's entire youth was filled with the fragrance of gardenia. That was her own name, and it was also the taste of Xu Ci that she had secretly liked for three years. She is the quietest student in the studio, and he is the proud one surrounded by halo and applause. Her only courage was to hide in the corner of the classroom, use a paintbrush to depict the frown on his eyebrows when solving problems, and use an old MP3 player to record the evening breeze in front of his window, thinking that in this way, she could hide that summer together with him. Until that rainy night, he left without looking back and even said goodbye. Xia Zhi's secret love was like a pantomime that no one knew about. When it ended, there was no audience. Five years later, Jiangcheng. Xia Zhi became a slightly famous illustrator and worked hard to bury the past. However, a sudden business cooperation made the man she thought she would never see again in her life break into her world again. Xu Ci. He is no longer the young man in a white shirt, but a feared upstart in Jiangcheng's business community. He is cold and noble, and his eyes are like a deep pool, making it difficult for people to see through. He became her client, trapping her in his project and in his sight with an unquestionable attitude. "Xia Zhi, it's time to pay back what you owe me." He stopped her at the end of the corridor, his voice low, with a hint of complex emotions that she couldn't understand. Everyone thought that this was a belated revenge, his punishment for her "betrayal" back then. Xia Zhi thought so too. She gritted her teeth, armed herself with indifference, and tried to escape from the web he had woven.

In 2004, young Yin Tao left a small southern town with his luggage on his back, thinking that only his home was far away, and that he would have peace of mind after becoming famous. He traveled north and pursued profit for half his life, from a crowded rental house to a prosperous office building, from having nothing to becoming rich, but in the pursuit he lost his lover, alienated his flesh and blood, and forgot about his return journey. In middle age, he traveled to foreign countries and seemed to have everything, but he was always like a duckweed with no branches to rely on. When he grew old, he returned to his hometown and looked back at his life in the empty old house. From the age of twenty to eighty, sixty years of wandering and sixty years of pursuit, he asked throughout the years where he could call home. When I finally understood that home was never about a house or fame, but an ordinary fireworks with people waiting for me, food to eat, and a place to go to, things had changed and I was left with only regrets, a lifetime of unsolvable sadness.

This is a long novel about finding light in the darkness, eighty stories, and eighty ordinary people struggling in the gaps of life. The female vice president of an investment bank who was kicked out by the unspoken rules of the workplace lost everything at the age of thirty, but met the seventeen-year-old self who wanted to be a writer again amidst the sound of keyboard tapping late at night; the convenience store clerk who worked the night shift for fourteen hours in a row, used a A lamp that is always on absorbs all the broken souls at three in the morning; a seventy-three-year-old rural lady decided to learn to drive after her husband died because she could not wait for the car. The day she got her driver's license, she drove to the beach alone, completing a promise she had made forty years late. There are also the single father who got back on his feet by delivering food after being laid off, the widow who sold vegetables in the market to support two college students, the old teacher who suffered from cancer but insisted on running a marathon, the veteran who climbed up Mount Tai with his hands after losing his legs, the young doctor who has been hiding a secret for thirteen years and dare not tell his parents... Each of them had cried bitterly late at night, and at some point in their lives felt that they could not go on. But in the end they all did one thing - raised their heads in the darkness and looked for that little light. The stars are always shining, even if you can't see them. It's not because the light doesn't exist, it's just that it's not dark enough. When it's dark enough, every star will shine like a lamp. This book does not teach you how to succeed. It only tells you one thing: living itself is a kind of light.

Come to China Literature's website to read more of my works!