Two yellow oxen are tied at He Lingxiu's doorstep. Sometimes Ling Zhenfei accompanies He Lingxiu to herd the oxen, each riding one. Once, the oxen went wild, and Ling Zhenfei fell off.
Looking up at the sky is the same blue sky from childhood, with a plane dragging a long tail across the sky.
Ling Zhenfei was stunned, even unable to distinguish whether this was illusion or reality.
He even wanted to get up and walk towards his home to see what was there, whether his brother was still at home, and if it was early enough, perhaps he could see his parents.
But at that moment, a voice deep in Ling Zhenfei's soul told him that it was all an illusion, all fake.
The soul's depths told him all of it was fake, yet his mind believed it was true because it felt so real.
Sometimes the eyes can deceive oneself; things we believe we can see are actually tricks.
