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Everyone wants to see the sea. But sometimes we will start from the vast blue sea and go upstream along the sparkling river. The river gradually narrows and slowly turns into a small stream. Finally, we follow the stream into a cave and find a gurgling underground spring. At the bottom of the spring lie colorful pebbles quietly in the eternal darkness. You need to use a flashlight or an occasional glimmer of light from God to find them. These colored stones are either your own or left behind by others. If you pick them up and arrange them randomly on the shore, it becomes a prose. If you polish it again and arrange it into a more complicated pattern, it becomes an epic. If it is more complicated and build a pavilion with cement, it becomes a novel. You may ask, what is a five-character quatrain? Oh, I said, isn't it actually just the stones one by one? Yes, it can be said that all literary forms are memories!

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