Blood-soaked youth's nostalgia for full moon

  A month ago, with a nervous heart, I came to 17K with trepidation.

  It's beautiful here, with endless scenery.

  There is romance here, and also deep feeling.

  Yesterday was the 9th, I uploaded my humble work for a full month. I should have been sentimental yesterday, but due to a friend's invitation, I got drunk and lost all my energy, returning late at night, already exhausted.

  Until now I woke up, outside has been autumn wind, air conditioning is not used, fan also closed, indoor and outdoor windows are very quiet, suddenly realized, wanting to be quiet is my dream.

  Looking back

  A month of confrontation, a month of writing, a month of uploading, a month of hardship, a month of unease, a month of gratitude.

  Thank you editor, thank you friends, thank you, thank you letter 17k.

  Since I've come, I must persist, regardless of the outcome, just existing is satisfying, and having more is even more satisfying. Because I've poured my heart and soul into it, in the quiet days, my thoughts have been accumulating day by day in my mind, then incubating, and finally giving birth to a fetus of upright words, which are loved and cherished by friends from all sides, making me feel doubly delighted and comforted.

  But an amateur, but a hobby, not seeking fame, only willing to leave some spirit for future generations.

  The anti-drama has never been seen through to the end, because of God.

  I don't like crossing over, nor do I like gods. But I worship such a great god, feeling inferior to him.

  Traditional education, adhering to established rules.

  Everything is in chance, everything is in thought.

  Having a dream, I want it to become a reality, I want it to be nurtured for ten months and then give birth.

  Without him thinking, I thought of the hardships my hometown suffered more than 70 years ago. The iron hooves, shells, bayonets and brutal rule of the Japanese invaders ravaged my hometown. Flipping through page after page of history, listening to the old people's stories, looking at the scars on their bodies, my heart aches.

  Countless innocent lives were lost, countless husbands disappeared, countless women suffered, and even more heroes rose up to fight bloody battles. They are the soul of China, the spirit of the nation.

  Unknown, famous, 70 years ago, young people united in adversity, blood is always hot.

  Only with the bloody struggle and resistance of young people can the nation not perish; only with the strength of youth, China will be majestic.