I have a dream about literature, philosophy and art.
It is poetic, as beautiful as a flower, and as hazy as the moon.
It is also turbulent. It is as majestic as the waves and as scorching as the sun.
A dream is a dream, it cannot be realized. But I thought, maybe I can reach the other side of it.
When the wind blew through the ninety thousand miles of clouds, I smiled and walked gently towards the other shore.
When the thunder ravaged the endless deep sea, I became more and more excited and flocked to the other shore in a brave rush. (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com