Turn off the light, open the notebook, listen to music, watch the screen, the cursor blinking on and off, Fireworks burst outside, the whole sky belongs to them, and memories begin to wake up bit by bit. This year, simple and plain, Every day busy, life and nothing but life. Walking down the street watching the coming and going crowd: plain, no expression on their faces, Just keep walking forward with my head down, Transferring at the next stop, I took out my phone while waiting, scrolling Weibo and sending WeChat messages, At the exit of the last stop, letting out a soft sigh—well, another day has passed!

After a few years of work, I’ve grown lazier and lazier, Concise code, simple conversation, simple operation, Growing to prefer short, clear-at-a-glance words, Clearly I only have that little ink, For one without ink, the distance is more than just the ends of the earth, Clearly so many memories, But I find that memories have rotted away into the years, Like alcohol—leave it long enough and it evaporates.

As we grow older, everyone is tagged with more and more labels, Sometimes, I cling to the past, Only for the certain people, certain things, certain scenes I met in those fleeting years. That day I made a decision: go to an ancient town in Jiangnan and give my mood a break. It was a peaceful world, It can be described as far from the mundane world, The old house and the river keep each other company, never apart, No matter how the years slip away, the end of the bridge is still waiting, I’m on this side, you’re on that side, Look up, and only then discover your beauty. Searching, seeking—the past is like smoke, The rain soaks the ancient town, Washing away all the worldly vexations, leaving only purity, Looking from the bridge at distant little boats, like a melancholy song, That was a middle-aged woman, but sadly I couldn’t see her face, Through her singing, one can imagine what charm she had in her youth. I love sitting on Fu’an Bridge in Zhouzhuang, Music from the shop across the street, one song repeating, Looking back from the bridge, zoning out for a while, How many people have come and gone, how many sights I’ve seen, Suddenly realized that feeling tired sometimes is perhaps because along life’s path, I’ve forgotten where I’m going.

Back to the original point, all changed but the place, So many people in life drift apart as we walk, It comes—and I smile with ease. Gone, leaving not a trace of warmth. More often than not, I don’t know what to say, who to say it to, or how to say it, So just stay silent, silent all along… The most bombarded question goes from 2 to 3, And I realize, Friends, no shortage. Go abroad? No money. Marriage? Don’t want it. Kid, we’ll talk later. Perhaps not everything will go as I wish, But at least there’s a choice to make—there may be touches, there may be regrets, I think this is enough.

Still remember those years, huddled around the radio listening to broadcasts, A small southern town, in the drizzling rain, Only a single spot, letting the 2B light-years keep youth going, Fireworks, blooming, falling, seemingly within reach, A moment of beauty, a moment of radiance, In the end, it was all just empty, but，i’m still here。。。

END