In my spiritual home, I only look to Mr. Guan. I often see Mr. Guan's sharp eyes crossing the century-old dust in the dark, illuminating my dim heart garden.

I often meet my husband in this small spiritual garden. He sat in a big cane chair and lit a cigarette quietly. The dim light burned black, and Mr. Wang's face was faintly discernible.

I try to understand Mr. Wang, try to read the uncontrollable indignation in Mr. Wang's anger, and try to read the integrity written between the lines. Is Mr. Wang angry in his eyes? Is it sadness? Still worrying about the country and the people?

I just tried to guess, so I walked into Mr. Weeds. It is already late autumn, and the yellow weeds stand upright in the rustling autumn wind, just like Mr. Wang's pride. I saw the burning flame in Mr. Wang's eyes and my new home on the wasteland after the fire.

I saw my husband wandering in the autumn grass, and I heard him crying. My husband is independent and considerate.

Ah Q, who is full of ignorance, loss and self-mockery, Kong Yiji, who is dressed in a gown and full of nonsense, and Xianglinsao, who is the same as a beggar, are all complaining that the nine-catty old lady is not as good as that generation. They approached Mr. Wang, approached him, went out, that is, left and disappeared into his field of vision.

Mr. Wang's eyes are full of anger, which is anger that has been silent for thousands of years for ignorance and sadness. For thousands of years, only Mr. Wang saw through it, so Mr. Wang picked up a pen and looked coldly, fighting thousands of years of feudal ignorance with his own strength. It is this pen that opens the ignorant hearts of many young people.

So I looked up to Mr. Wang in my heart with a similar worship mentality.

When reading Mr. Wang's book, I always think; First of all, life is too tired. When Lin Yutang and Zhou Zuoren were sipping fragrant tea, tasting tea, reading poems, talking about the soul and talking about leisure, Mr. Wang was unique among the black ink, people's ignorance and thousands of years of ignorance! Only pain and sadness!

Are you tired, sir? For thousands of years, literati and poets with bumpy official careers have been hiding in leisure or fascinated by mountains and rivers. Because of their entrustment, or their pen to express indignation, they complain that their talents have not been put to use. And this, unless it is for your own sake, is really not the heart of saving the world. Mr. Wei, alone, tore up those false, old and decadent things with a clank of iron and showed them to people. What does it take to send Gai Hua to Yu Xiansheng? Wyndell dichinson under the gun of Mr. Liu Hezhen, and Rou Shi's murder of Baimang, all of which suffocated her husband. What a world this is!

Mr. Wang struggled in pain, and then turned the pain into a kind of great love and hatred of the soul.

Mr. Wang's writing is sharp and bright, without affectation and whitewashing. Reading Mr. Wang's book, you can still see the distant wind blowing his clothes and his pride clanking.

And Mr., still independent of weeds, the sunset is like blood, and Mr.' s meditative figure turns into eternity, illuminating my spiritual home forever.