Dream Road

Opening ● Taught in a dream When I dreamed last night, there was an immortal guiding me. He didn't talk about family affairs or romance, he just taught me how to write books. He said, if you take a trip, The mountains and seas I have pretended to be in my heart, the people I have met, the tenderness and stubbornness I have hidden, They shouldn't just rot in time. Words are the echo of the heart, and writing is the return of the soul. It doesn't have to be earth-shattering, it doesn't have to be followed by thousands of people, Just write down what you see, what you are confused about, what you believe, and what you think. One stroke writes the past, one stroke writes the future, Leave a blank space in the middle for the rest of your life to slowly fill up. When I woke up, the dream was gone, But that certainty remained in my heart. It turns out, It was never anyone who taught me how to write a book, It's me who is finally willing to write for myself.