The highlight shall not exceed 100 words. Screenwriters: Bi Shumin, Zhao, Zhou, Lin Qingxuan and Zhu Ziqing.

Zhang Xiaofeng is the end of the carpet.

Walking back from the high wind, I feel like I'm floating. The smell of grass on the mountain is so strong that it reminds me that if there were no such strong wind, the air would be frozen by incense!

I strut, no one can see my smile in the dark. At night, the white reeds are cool.

It's already late autumn, and our days are approaching unconsciously. I feel my heart is like a new sail, and every corner is blown so full by the strong wind.

Bi Shumin's Kunlun Regret

The high sky slowly turned purple. First black purple, then crimson purple, then Ma Lian purple, alfalfa purple, lily of the valley purple, wisteria purple, and finally, it became a dazzling rose purple. The daughter of purple, red and black is purer than her brother who dyed the blue sea and blue sky. The smallest pride in this color spectrum only appears in the extremely high sky. Except Kunlun Mountain, only astronauts can see her elegant demeanor. Because the air on the plateau is extremely thin, all the signs before sunrise caused by air refraction no longer exist. The purple sky suddenly opened and a huge red sphere was born.

Zhao's Shan Yu

The rain changed the color of the mountain forest. In the sun, the color levels of the forest are almost unrecognizable, including dark green, grass green, light green, golden yellow, and red like fire. In the rain, all colors melt in the water green, dazzling and transparent. This fresh green seems to flow in the rain and fog, into my eyes and into my heart. ...

Zhou's life has no name.

"Life has no name"-how well said! Who had a name when we were born? Who came with a title, position, identity, property, etc? However, as we grow up and become more and more addicted to worldly affairs, few people can remember this simple fact. We meet by name, which is associated with title, status, property and so on. As a result, under the entanglement of these parasites, life itself is hidden and even shrunk.

Lin Qingxuan's White Butterfly by the Sea

I went to the seaside to take photos and sketch with two friends, one is a photographer and the other is a painter.

I was moved by the beauty of abandoned villages, abandoned ships and dead branches by the sea, but I ignored the long white sand beach. I saw it.

They took out their cameras and sketchbooks and sat in the abandoned bow to work. They are so affectionate and dedicated, I think, usually we all want to have something.

Everything that is alive feels beautiful, and what is in front of us has long lost its vitality. Why do they still think they are beautiful? I'm afraid we think

It's time, and the beauty of impermanence and loneliness!

Zhu Ziqing's Spring

Rain is the most common and lasts for three or two days. Don't be upset. You see, like cow hair, like a flower needle, like a filament, densely woven diagonally, and there is a thin layer of smoke on the roof. The leaves are bright green, and the grass is green enough to stare at your eyes. At night, the lights turned on, and a little dim light set off a quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on the path and by the stone bridge, some people are walking slowly with umbrellas, and some farmers are working in the fields, wearing wrinkled hats. Their houses are scattered and silent in the rain.

That's all I found! Okay？ (It is said that the reward is ... too little ~)