Qingtan Old Friend

I am a tree. Trees in Huangzang Valley. It has been standing here since the Shang Dynasty. The trees in the mountains are all vying to grow high, to serve as beams and pillars, to honor their ancestors. I can't do it. I'm crooked and twisted. The carpenter shakes his head at one glance, and the woodcutter picks up the ax and puts it down again - there's no place to start. Once I live, I live for four thousand years. When I was three thousand years old, I transformed into a human being. She is a girl, ugly, stupid, very strong, she can break stones when she walks, and she always speaks slowly. The days at the foot of the mountain are lively. I picked up a snow-white fox, she taught me how to make fire, and I stood up for her; the bell of the mountain temple rang for many years. One year, there was an extra person at the gate of the temple. When sweeping the floor, I was so clumsy that my face turned gray. He looked up and smiled at me - and I remembered it for many years. As long as the tree lives, it can expect anything. Wait for the flowers to bloom, wait for the snow to fall, wait for someone, wait until the end, wait for yourself to become a mountain god. The most useless thing in the world can wait. I am Qingtan. Come and hear my story of four thousand years.