Chapter 129: 218 chapters, when Suoluomen was at the height of its glory

218 chapters, when Suoluomen was at the height of its glory...

218 chapters, when Suoluomen was at the height of its glory...

--Liu Guozong's Spring Diary Fifty

In the late night of spring, there was no moonlight; the stars in the sky were also becoming increasingly scarce. The scarcer things become, the more precious they are. Lu Xun said: 'Things are valuable because they are rare.' No wonder the giant panda is called a national treasure; people would never call a dog some kind of treasure. Because there are too many dogs, and they often hurt people. Some ** dogs also need to be beaten......

In the late night of spring, the morning star hid in a crack of the clouds, lost in thought; the bird perched on the tree prepared to sing--

"Time, I love you, I want to walk with you; spring, I love you, but I fear your flowers bloom too early……"

"What kind of bird are you? A lazy bird? A noisy bird? A greedy bird? An affectionate bird? A bird that seeks petty advantages? A deceitful bird? A ** bird? A Kunpeng spreading its wings, soaring to the clouds, aspiring to a thousand miles, flying ninety thousand miles? A bird toiling for food and shelter, flying around beams, with the intestines of a chicken and the stomach of a sparrow? Answer clearly, and I will take you with me." The Old Man of Time asked.

"I am a little bird, flying, flying, but I cannot fly high." Said the little bird perched on the tree, preparing to sing, ashamed.

"My child, don't be afraid, don't be afraid. I will give you joy and freedom. 'Do not worry about life, what to eat or what to drink; is life not more than food? Is the body not more than clothing? …' 'You think: how do the lilies of the field grow? They neither labor nor spin; yet I tell you, at the time when Suoluomen was at the height of its glory, even his attire was not as splendid as this one flower.' The Old Man of Time comforted me."

The morning star hid in the cloud seam, the green sprout concealed in the branches, the sky still dark, and the birds flew away.

"People die for wealth, birds die for food." What a pitiful bird.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong……" the poet said--

"The tender green sprout,"

"and the youth:"

"Display yourself!"

"The pale white flower,"

"and the youth says:"

"Offer yourself."

"The deep red fruit"

"and the youth says:"

"Sacrifice yourself……"

"God said--"

"The little bird,"

"you must come to know yourself anew"

"and believe in yourself……

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