C24

Origin. Once upon a time, there was no language in this world. In this world, it was extremely quiet and pure. With language and communication between people, worries, feelings, doubts came one after another. With the convenience of the current communication, verbal information could be sent thousands of miles away in an instant. As long as one wanted to, one could pour out information about unhappiness, indignation, and tumble. He had thought that many of the confusion in life could be dispelled by the snow and the ice, and that many of the pain could be traced back to him. But there was still so much sadness, so much sadness. Why? It was because of some desires that he wanted, but he couldn't be sure. It was because of some disagreements that caused him to be unable to find a way out. It was because of some dark feelings that he couldn't reach the end of it … Just confused.

Why was he so confused? He always felt that no matter how much he said, it would never be able to compare to the desolation of his thoughts. No matter how many expressions he had, it would never be able to bear witness to the desolation in his heart. So we said to ourselves: No one will understand themselves, no one can be trusted. Sometimes, we even lost ourselves for a while, blurring who we were and forgetting where we wanted to go. The feelings of bewilderment, like a low beat of music, unceasingly sing a desolate sadness. Floating melancholy, like a long slender tentacle, recklessly drill into the pores of the skin, like a vine, heart into the lung to wrap around, let us suffocate, let us pain, let us numb.

Why should I be confused? Always feel that our efforts do not get the appropriate response, mud into the sea. We always feel that we are far from the successful hall, no more than a thousand sails of wings, so we have to flee in a hurry. Due to confusion and chaos, due to the lingering of chaos, when pain struck in all directions, words would become a burden. So we are silent, we are lonely, we are lonely. Silently leave the bustle, take away all the pain, alone pain. He carefully stiffened his expression, afraid that he would accidentally reveal the secret at the bottom of his heart. Gradually, his happiness fell further and further away from him. It wasn't that he didn't want to obtain it, but that he couldn't see the opportunity to do so. So we said to ourselves: Forget it, try again next time.

His heart was empty, uncertain, and dispirited. He was at a loss. Because he was confused, he stayed. Because of his confusion, he missed it. Because of his confusion, he lost it. In the end, when a lost posture is embedded in our lives, do we spoil our lives, or does life ravage us? I don't know, because we're confused... The stars turn, the world changes, but why is fate always in a similar trajectory? We began to wonder weakly: Is it impossible to get out of this lost swamp now? Then let it sink into depravity …

Confusion makes our lives as flat and tasteless as water, yet ubiquitous, and over time, oozing gurgle water, converging into the sea, and only we can ferry ourselves to the other shore. So, wipe your eyes, don't let confusion bewitch you. Only with a shore in their hearts would there be a ferry, a boat, and a tomorrow.

The gathering and dispersing of man and man is like the clouds in the sky, like the duckweed in the water. Sometimes they converge, sometimes they separate. To gather and combine was the mystery of the world. The vast majority of people knew that a person was very insignificant. Since fate could not be controlled by one's own hands, they had to resign themselves to fate. Thus, everything was "up to fate."

The endless stream of people roaming the streets, who can hear the loneliness of who, looking for a person in panic, looking for a heart seal. In this universe, we are all unique, no one can replace us, no matter what, we will be hurt, hurt so what, at least we are strong, very magnanimous.

In the starlight, we forget yesterday's injuries. When we wake up, we are still looking forward to it, we do not give up the courage to love, we do not doubt that we will have a heart of our own. The only thing we need to do is to hold onto the most beautiful dream, to let the future self, day after day, overthrow the previous day, persevere in their faith, believing that we will remember today's appearance.

Standing as far as the eye could see on the windy rooftop, this lonely city, at the end of the sky where the tall buildings intersected, who was chasing after the empty freedom?

Everything was as still as still water, as if the world had stopped at this moment. The sky, blank night, the city lights chaos; the wind, blowing through the invisible heaven, who is still busy chasing? Untie your memories, forget all the pain and sorrow, and let all the inaudible cries be buried with the night. Remove all camouflage, gently open the window of the dream, on the road, although there will be obstacles, but also fly with you.

His clothes fluttered in the wind, and his long hair danced in the wind. Zhang Jun was lost in thought. Was it because he was confused about the future? Sad about life? Or was he lost in love? Gazing at the distant sky, Zhang Jun was like a stone that had been lost for tens of thousands of years, motionless.

A gust of cold wind blew over, pulling Zhang Jun out of his thoughts.

Gripping an exquisite flute tightly in his hand, he lowered his head to look at the flute in his hand, revealing a signature bitter smile. After a moment, he slowly opened his mouth and said: "What is love? What was helplessness? Wordless of the opposite, I hold back tears to say to you cherish. Only, the you in my dream last night was no longer you; perhaps, I will no longer be myself. Forgetting you, forgetting myself; yearning has already stung my heart, and I think it is time to part with the love I feel for you, my beloved you, and let me play another song for you as a silent farewell. "

As Xiao Yan spoke, his phoenix eyes slightly closed. One by one, the dismal and sorrowful notes filled the night sky; the low and helpless melodies turned into bits and pieces of memories, filling every corner of the city with the wind. Zhang Jun was indeed worthy of his title as the Prince of Piano. His flute melody was insinuating that he did not need to control it. Every note and melody that floated out was filled with his helpless and indecisive state of mind.

The most perfect piece of music will eventually come to an end. After a long time, the song came to an end. His eyes stared straight at the faintly discernible light in the distance, his deep gaze becoming one with the light. If one looked carefully, they would see two streams of clear tears at the corners of Zhang Jun's eyes. It was unknown if they were from the wind or from secretly sobbing.

The song finally ended. In the distant horizon, patches of white fell from the sky along with the wind. They landed on Zhang Jun's body and melted in the blink of an eye. As time passed, more and more rays of white light floated down, and in an instant, the sky was covered in a vast expanse of white. Under everyone's expectation, they finally welcomed the first snowfall of this year. The snowflakes danced in the air, disturbing Zhang Jun's line of sight. Looking at the clear sky, Zhang Jun smiled to himself. "Once, the pain has penetrated my heart. Cao Jia, will you hurt me again like she did before?" He shook his head, shook off his anxious thoughts, patted off the snow on his body, and turned to leave, leaving behind a long sigh.

At the same time, somewhere in the city. A girl dressed in purple pajamas looked very casual, but if one looked closely, they would discover that this girl was so perfect, so beautiful that it could not be found anywhere. She was just like a profound woman from the ninth heaven, ethereal and pure. At this moment, she opened the window on the balcony and stared at the falling snow in a daze. In this cold snow, those beautiful and proud flowers quietly withered, all lowered their noble heads to this harsh winter; but a single cold plum, proud of the branches, resisting the harsh winter, alone bloomed its hopeless but strong and eternal flower of love.

Inside a warm room that was filled with an aura of erosion, a pair of lovers who seemed to be very fond of each other embraced each other sincerely. The thick quilt couldn't cover up the smooth white shoulders of the lovers that were exposed. If Zhang Fei, Zhang Jun, and the others or Mu Xinyi saw this scene, they would definitely recognize that the boy that was hugging this cold and gentle girl was Zhou Xinmin. That's right, Zhou Xinmin was hugging the girl that he had met yesterday in the bar. Her surname was Hou and her name was Xin Xuan.

"Min, the snow that arrived late this year is so beautiful." Hou Xinxuan said as she blinked her mist-like eyes at the falling snowflakes outside the window.

Zhou Xinmin lightly scratched Hou Xinxuan's exquisite nose. He stared at Hou Xinxuan and said seriously, "Just like our love. Even though we arrived late, it still makes us a kind of beauty. As long as you are willing, I will always be by your side."

Hou Xinxuan wrinkled her jade nose that had been lightly scratched by Zhou Xinmin. She stuck out her tongue, but she said firmly, "I want you to accompany me for the rest of my life."

Zhou Xinmin nodded heavily and gave Hou Xinxuan a light kiss on the forehead, giving her a silent promise.

Love, so much language is a burden." Sometimes, an action, an expression, or even a look was enough to express everything. Perhaps, there really is such a thing as a telepathic connection in the world. If love, please love deeply, use your life to love, give him or her a truly warm embrace, safe harbor.

Hou Xinxuan understood Zhou Xinmin's actions and gaze. Her hands, which were wrapped around his waist, tightened even more, as if she would leave Zhou Xinmin if she let go of him. She stood up slightly and slowly pushed down Zhou Xinmin. As a result, a beautiful scene of spring was playing in the room …

It was a severe winter and the moon was covered in snow. The clouds covered the entire night, and the snowflakes were ten times, a hundred times stronger than in the early spring. The entire city was shrouded in a fog, and their eyes could only see a few steps ahead through the heavy snow.

Pure Snow quickly piled up a thick layer of snow on the street, covering up the city's flying tiles, the gold and jade walls, the bright fire, and the deep and shallow barricades between the bluestone roads.

As the snow began to fall, people began to sweep the streets with shovels and broom, but after sweeping it, they covered and swept it again. Gradually, the number of people willing to sweep became fewer and fewer.