Wandering - Book Review of "Wandering"
He is like a lonely withered leaf. He has spent too much energy fighting the whirlwind and is dangling confusedly in the eye of the wind. change. His body was eroded to pieces, and he was lifted higher and higher. The world was bigger, but his eyes were still filled with filth and hesitation.
The gray sky, dry grassland, these familiar scenery are always indispensable in his form. He finally drifted to the city, but the city was shrouded in dense purple smoke. Through the pungent smell, he saw the crowd - a crowd of indifferent people, each going his own way. Under the eaves, in a lonely corner, he found the miserable and desolate Mrs. Xianglin huddled there, no one cared about her. There was still a sense of serenity on her face that was purple from the cold, and the smile on her lips hinted that she still had some faint hope in this world that was like a pool of stagnant water. He shuddered, pitying this thin body, wanting to stay a little longer, resenting that he was too small to keep her away from the cold. When the wind came, he was blown away again, leaving this soul that was harmed by society and died alone.
This may be his most painful memory.
Walking through the drunken restaurant, he met Lu Weifu, who had been tortured by life and was decadent and sluggish. He had long been numb to life. What good scenes were there now? Tomorrow, he himself doesn’t know where he will go...
In a world where everything seems to be covered with gray veil, he also found the one who stood firm in the wind and snow, looking forward to and creating "happiness" The illusory word "A" that strives for a "family" may actually appear on paper in a few years.
He was sleepy and wanted to borrow a place to rest, but he still didn't know where he was and he was getting more and more hesitant. It seemed that the bright white world was also dark. He was trapped in a net of snow-white ice crystals and could not tell the direction of the road. In the haze, he smelled a faint scent of sandalwood, which was like olives but not olives. He dreamed of the fourth wife's yelling, meanness and acrimony; he also dreamed of the pitiful filial daughter, with a sense of indifference towards life. Help, the sadness of being bullied; he dreamed of sadness and death; dreamed of complicated divorce... He seemed to have experienced a lot and made many acquaintances, but in the end he found that he was just a loner, an unknown person with weak strength. The lonely one...
So he became more and more wandering, spinning with the sky, grass, as if, mountains, rivers and seas... still missing, drifting in the wind, miserable...
It was snowing, and the biting cold wind and snowflakes brushed his face, but he felt a refreshing coolness. So he showed this confused world to the world and asked everyone to think about it. I savored his hesitation, and suddenly, this real world felt both real and illusory. (selected from