Qingshan Su'e's Notes: Boundless Scenery Is New for a Time

The first thing she did when she came to the Moon Palace was to take off her splendid heavenly clothes and walk barefoot into the wilderness. She shuddered when the soles of her feet touched the moon dust - it was the softness of hundreds of millions of years, more honest than the earth's soil. In the shadow of the crater, she squatted down and dug her nails deeply into the silver-gray "past". There are no grass roots, no life, only particles that have been repeatedly beaten by meteorites and smoothed by time. She started kneading. Mix the moon dust with a little cold dew and gradually tame it into clay. First, I pinched a small bowl, with ripples of fingerprints on the edge; then I pinched a jade rabbit, with its ears stubbornly erect in the vacuum. The skirt of her skirt was covered in gray stains, like another kind of star. It turns out that this is ascension - from being a totem to be looked up to, to being the creator of a speck of dust. There are no offerings, no legends, only the eternal loneliness in the palm of her hand, which she gives a peaceful form. When she finally formed a rough clay pot, the first glimmer of moondust seeped out between her fingers. It's cold, but with a newborn warmth. It turns out that the deepest loneliness is to have all the time, but only want to reshape an inch of the earth that can stand barefoot.