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安
Quiet
Writer Zat9mqReal Life4k Wordsongoing
At the age of 34, I was at home in Beijing, standing on the balcony and looking down. There is a constant flow of traffic downstairs, in the distance there are tall buildings with thousands of lights on, the smell of cooked porridge wafts from the kitchen, and the sound of my husband's sleeping breathing can be heard in the bedroom. I have a house, a car, a stable job, people who love me, and a home that can protect me from wind and rain. In the secular sense, I seem to have everything I need to
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