Shangqiaotou Village, Qiaotou Town

Author's conclusion:

It was an unplanned story, and one of the smoothest I've ever written.

Every time after writing a story, I seem to feel that I have a lot to say, but this time, listening to the familiar Northwest tune, I just want to sit quietly:

What exactly is love?

Is it the romantic feelings in the poet's pen?

Or some libertine who stops by for you?

Or a playground after the park is closed, a Ferris wheel that spins just for you?

Seems like everyone's looking for love

So everyone who is looking for love tries to paint her favorite color for love

Over time, love has become a pyramid where vanity hides

It's high up, beyond reach

however

Strip off all emptiness and lead

he's just a kid

Morning dew on his eyelashes

Smiling mischievously like a child