In the deepest part of our hearts, perhaps we are still clinging to the elegance of adding fragrance to tea, the humor of cooking wine as a child, and the tranquility of reading on rainy nights.

I remember, when I was a child, it was fun. Because of this trouble, I was beaten by my father. At that time, I didn't know how to cherish books, only how to play. I tore off a few pages of my father's beloved water margin and folded it into the most popular paper plane when I was a child to play with my companions. After being beaten, I still don't understand why my father beat my beloved me for these pages, but from then on, I never dare to be so cruel to books. I gradually learned.

I went to primary school. Reading let me know: Grandma Bing Xin's ardent expectations of us, Lenin's understanding of what an honest child is, and the Five Heroes of Langya Mountain let us admire heroes. With my growth, I read more and more books. The original picture book, robot cat and story meeting can't satisfy my thirst for knowledge. So I tried to find more.