At this time, a intoxicating breeze blew, and the fog completely dissipated. In the sky, the brilliant starry sky of a summer night appeared boundlessly, and in the distance below the mountains, the lights of Wanjia in Taian formed another small starry sky, as if the former was reflected in a small lake.
Lin Yun recited that poem with her gentle voice:
"The street lights in the distance are bright,
As if countless stars are flashing.
The stars in the sky are revealed,
As if countless street lights are lit."
I continued to recite:
"I imagine in the ethereal sky,
There must be a beautiful street market.
The items displayed in the market must be rare and unique in the world.
..."
Tears welled up in my eyes. This beautiful world in the night trembled and became even clearer in the tears. I understand that I am a dream chaser, and I also understand how treacherous and unpredictable this path of life is in the world. Even if the Southern Gate in the fog never appears, I will always keep climbing--
I have no other choice.
- "Ball Lightning" by Liu Cixin