To be honest I'm really curious about the so-called Fei Yang incident, what is going on

1. Skinny (Tsai Chongda) My A-Tai (my grandmother's mother) who lived to be 99 years old, was a very bullish person. My grandmother suddenly died in her 50s, and she was sent away from her family. Her relatives took turns to watch over her for fear that she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. But she had a surge of anger from nowhere, cursing and running around by herself. A moment to lift the coffin to see the grandmother's appearance, a moment to the kitchen to see how the sacrificial offerings, walked down the hall to hear someone kill a chicken did not cut the artery, the chicken spilled blood jumping around, Mrs. ran out, grabbed the chicken, hard to the ground a drop.　　The chicken's feet struggled for a moment and finally stopped. "It's not over - don't let this flesh be tossing its soul." Ah Tai was not a cultured person, but a goddess. So speech was always occasionally literate.　　All the people were mute.　　At the funeral, Mrs. Ah didn't cry a single word. Even when she watched her grandmother's body go into the incinerator, she only squinted, as if she was disdainful of the other people who were howling, or as if the old man was calmly taking a nap.　　I was just in first grade that year, and I couldn't understand Mrs. A's icy callousness. Several times I walked over to her and asked her, "Mrs. Why aren't you sad? Mrs. Ah's face, which was covered with life spots, even slightly stretched, and it was a smile - "Because I'm so relieved."　　These words were heard very often later in life. After my grandmother passed away, Mrs. A often came to my house to stay, she said, grandmother before she died, black dog da no grandparents, parents are busy, you have to help take care of. I can feel her so-called "willingness to give up".　　Mrs. Ah is a very tough person, even cutting vegetables as hard as cutting ribs. Once she shouted out calmly in the kitchen, and I asked loudly in the hall, "What's wrong with Mrs. Ah? "Nothing, just a severed finger." We were the ones who panicked next, and she looked as if she didn't have a care in the world.　　In the hospital, they were stitching up Mrs. A's finger, and my mother was telling me Mrs. A's story on the bench outside the hospital. She had once thrown her young uncle, who did not know how to swim, into the sea so that he could learn how to swim, and when he almost drowned, a neighbor watched and jumped into the water to save him. A few days later the neighbors watched her throw him into the water again. All the neighbors scolded her for being heartless, and she said coldly, "Flesh is not meant to be used, not served."　　When Ah Tai was discharged from the hospital, I finally couldn't stop myself from asking her about the truth of the story. She said faintly, "It's true, if you serve you all day long, you won't be successful, only those who can use their flesh can become successful." To be honest, I didn't get it at the time.　　I always felt that Tai was like a rock because of that, so hard that nothing could hurt her. She was even known in our town as a hard-ass, and even in her nineties, she still insisted on walking from the village to my hometown in town by herself, using her small, wrapped feet. Every time she wanted to hire a car to take her back, she was always unusually angry: "There are only two choices, either you help me walk slowly back, or I walk back by myself." Therefore, the stone road in my hometown, you can always see a teenager holding an old man slowly moving out of town.　　Yet I still saw Mrs. Ah cry. It was when she was 92 years old, once she climbed up to the roof to patch a hole, and accidentally she fell down and lay at home unable to move. When I went to visit her, she heard me from afar, and before I entered, she cried, "My good great-grandson, Mrs. can't move, Mrs. is trapped. Though the next week she stubbornly tried to land and walk, yet within a few steps she fell again. She cried and urged me to come and visit her often, and from then on every day, relying on a chair for support, she slowly scooted to the door, sat there, and waited all day for me to show up. I also often ran to Mrs. Ah's house, especially when things came up, I always felt that sitting with her, there is an indescribable peace and solidity.　　Later, when I went to college and then to work abroad, I saw her less often. However, every time I encountered frustration, I always took leave to run to my hometown - an important thing is to go and sit with Mrs. A in the afternoon, although I said the pain, she may not necessarily understand, and even not necessarily hear (she has already back of the ear), but every time I saw her not quite understand the smile, unfold the age carved out of the layers and layers of wrinkles, I just But every time I saw her smile in a way that I didn't quite understand, unfolding the layers of wrinkles carved by the years, I was somehow relieved.　　I found out that Mrs. Ah had passed away on a very normal morning. My mother called me and told me that your wife had passed away. Then both of us hugged and cried together. My mother said that Mrs. Ah left me one last message: "Black Dog Da, don't cry. Death is not just a matter of feet, if you sincerely miss me, I will naturally come to see you. Because from now on, I no longer have the baggage of skin. How convenient it is to come and go."　　It was only at that moment that I realized what Mrs. Ah had once said to me, that I understood Mrs. Ah's outlook on life: how light our lives are, but we are held back by the filth of our flesh and our various desires. Mrs. Ah, I remember, "Flesh is for use, not for serving." Please be sure to come and visit me.　　2. Dandelions are happy too (Chu Cheng-Yu) Before I went to the Tai Hou Tribe, I felt it was completely necessary to visit it first. This is a big matter that concerns my future for the rest of my life.　　Dahou Tribe is a small mountain village in our area, notoriously poor and remote, and I am about to be assigned there to do elementary school teachers, woe is me, think of this heart is half cold.　　The day I went, the sun was shining brightly, and the roadside was covered with a large area of dandelions blooming with yellow flowers. Despite my heavy heart, the roadside scenery gave me a little comfort. For the first 20 kilometers into the village, the road was closed to traffic and could only be traveled on foot. As the road became more and more difficult to walk, the comfort gradually became like a drop in the bucket.　　Finally walked to the village, the eyes see are low and dilapidated sub, nose smell are the smell of burning manure, occasionally came a few barking dogs, is to this dead world knocking on the door to mention a wake-up call: we are still alive.　　This scene of depression and desolation made me instantly stupid, I secretly swore in my heart: even if I use all the relations, but also to escape from this sea of misery.　　I wanted to go to the school to take a look at the environment in which I was going to work.　　I asked a little girl where the school was located, and she froze for a moment, then put down the bucket of pig food in her hand, wiped her hands on her pants, and said she would lead me there.　　This was a child of about 10 years old, with two lively pigtails, a bright smile adorning her dirty little face, and a pair of big eyes full of curiosity.　　She cheerfully walked in front of me, enthusiastically asked me why I came here.　　I mumbled, "Oh, nothing much, just wanted to walk around and look around."　　"Oh." I don't know why she suddenly looked a little disappointed.　　Onto the school. Instead of a school, it was a slightly larger sub and a slightly larger yard that could barely be used as a playground, with a flagpole and a somewhat worn red flag proving that this place was different.　　The blackboards in the classroom were cleanly wiped, the chairs were all neatly arranged, and the windows were immaculate, but there was no one there.　　I asked her why no one was in class.　　"There's no teacher, it's been about two months, teachers have been coming and going one by one, and the adults say that no one wants to come and be a teacher with us." The little girl said.　　"Then how come this place is so clean?"　　"I made a deal with my good friends that one of us would be responsible for coming here to clean up every day, and we're going to pick up the place so that when the teachers come, they won't mind that it's dirty, and they'll stay."　　The child's words seemed to jolt me in the heart.　　"A few times, a few naughty boys scribbled on the blackboard, we argued with them for a long time, in the end, in the end, we won, and they often come to help us now." She said with a proud look on her face, "It just so happens that it's my turn today, so you sit down and rest for a while, I'm going to start cleaning."　　I watched as she took a rag and began to get busy. That tiny figure shone movingly in the sunlight. I took out a bottle of iced tea from my backpack and handed it to her, and she took it with some hesitation, taking a small sip.　　"It's really good," she said softly, and then took another sip, and then hurriedly put on the lid and handed it back to me.　　I said it was for you. She was so happy that she forgot to say thank you, and only said, "Then I'm going to take it home for my mom and brother to try it too."　　When I came back from school, the little girl squatted down by the side of the road and carefully folded down a dandelion and handed it to me, she said, "When you blow a dandelion, make a wish first. Then blow it down in one breath, to blow the dandelion down to nothing, and the wish will come true." I watched as she folded one for herself, then closed her eyes reverently, brought the dandelion slowly to her lips, and then blew it away with a "huff."　　"You blow too, come on, hurry up and make a wish." She urged me.　　I closed my eyes and mumbled in my heart for a long time, and then really seriously blew over in one breath, the dandelion seeds flew in the sky, like light snowflakes, and all of a sudden the silk swept away. The little girl smiled brightly, as if everyone's wishes could come true.　　She then asked me, "What did you wish for?"　　I asked her back with a smile, "What about you?"　　She said her wish was for a good teacher and that she wanted to go back to school.　　She didn't know what I wished for, but in fact, I wished for something that had to do with her and something that had to do with every child here.　　My wish was that every child here would be as happy as she is.　　I decided to stay because I love the big, big dandelions here. Those dandelions can still be happy even though they are born in this barren land.　　"You haven't told me your wish yet?" The little girl got to the bottom of it.　　"My wish is ......." I purposely kept my mouth shut, "that you get your wish."　　The little girl walked me out a long way until I was on the bus to the county seat. I waved to her and shouted loudly to her, "Tomorrow, see you at school, no see."　　3. Cloudy Days (Gao Hong) When I was little, I liked to watch clouds.　　When I lay on the lawn of the mountain mount, the world became a circle. The circle changed colors, bright and dark, like a mirror sharpened in the beginning, blue and deep. The edge of the mirror is bright and dark, the clouds are squeezed in, the colors are gradually strong, forming a group, like a field of sheep or cotton, leisurely through the mirror. Treasure mirror and returned to its original face, waves. Close your eyes and sleep for a while, see an airplane dragged a long tail rushed in, plowed a white line in the mirror. The white line has not yet completely dispersed, just driven out of the sheep "hula" and wade back. When the sheep had eaten their fill, they were packed into a ball, leaving only a piece of white, and it was impossible to tell whether it was the sheep or the cloud. What is above the clouds? Is there a heavenly palace? In the heavenly palace, there should be immortals living in the clouds, and they live a life of nothingness all day long.　　Sometime after I joined the workforce, I was employed in a joint venture and traveled frequently between various cities. I had a habit of leaning against the window on airplanes and enjoying the view from below. Of course, what I saw most were clouds, clouds of different shapes and variations. The thick layer of clouds is so densely spread out that it feels like it can hold you up even if you jump, like a big, vast bed that warmly embraces you. It is said that a day in the sky and a thousand years on the ground, so if you accidentally fall asleep in bed, and wake up, the end of the world! Impressive is once went to Shenzhen, the clouds below the accumulation of thick, endless, suddenly in the middle of a hole, shocking - it feels like our plane is held by the clouds. Settling down to look down, below is the earth, nothingness, do not seem like the earth. The plane further ahead, a large river vast, winding majestic, clip bank snow, waves curbing the boat ...... Another time in the memory left a mark on the cloud scene is from Qingdao to Shenyang. The day was clear, and the wind was gentle. There were some idle clouds in the air, single and lazy. After entering the Bohai Sea, the clouds gradually accumulated gradually thicker and thicker, gradually sinking, three-dimensional color, shape abruptly. These clouds continue to grow, forming a continuous city. The city's have towering, lofty and proud, extraordinary shape. Around the strange stones standing, like people, but also very similar, such as a soldier bravely waving the flag rampage. Shaking, suddenly transformed into a monster, hideous face, teeth and claws. This reminds me of the fisherman and the demon in the monster, a chill swept through my heart. I was scrutinizing the monster, the monster has been transformed into a number of small beasts, running and jumping, naive. I guess there must be an invisible hand above the clouds to manipulate all this, a big scene is opened, and the same interpretation of the human world, the sadness and joy of separation, the round and round. In the distance, a mountain winding undulating, cloudy. There is a spring in the mountain, murmuring and gurgling. The spring water pouring and pouring, running into the distance, finally into a vast sea. And then far away, the sea and the sky, so it will not be able to distinguish where the clouds, where is the sky.　　Every time I go back to Xi'an, the airplane over the Qinling Mountains, my mood will be inexplicably excited. Because I have climbed this mountain many times and am familiar with its many ravines and rivers. However, when I look down from the sky, it's a different scene. The great Qinling Mountains are lush and green, as far as the eye can see. Many peaks that are usually hard to reach are just below your feet, and the huge granite rocks look like lotus flowers, blooming freely. The ridges of the mountains are glittering with silver spots, which are the snow that has not yet melted. Silver ribbons fluttered between the mountains, and small rivers flowed. The reservoir is dazzling like a mirror reflecting the sunlight up. In the distance, the mountains are overlapping and look even more charming under the cover of mist. Occasionally, one or two idle clouds drifted by, leaving slow footprints in the mountains.　　However, more often than not, the cabin is a vast, chaotic world. I wonder if the world was like this before the opening of the heavens and the earth - muddy, chaotic and uncharted. Billions of years later, our planet has water, air layers, wind, clouds, thunder and lightning, and thus the birth of the first life. Perhaps in the vast universe, there are many planets like our planet also nurtures life - even more advanced life than us, who knows?　　At the moment, the sun was shining brightly outside the cabin. The thick haze that was there a moment ago has dissipated and fled without a trace. The sky is so blue that people are mesmerized, tile bright and ethereal, under the clouds, is a vibrant scene.　　4, the memory of the mountain (Chen Ping) hometown of the mountains is a never fading painting.　　Every mountain in my hometown, every road in the mountains, I have walked and climbed and rolled. I was 10 years old when I went to the mountains to collect firewood, and I envied the adults for their strength. They wielded a shiny sharp wood knife, legs and stomach of the large hemp chestnut wood, a few cuts will be put down by them. I could only pick up some dry twigs from the side. There are a lot of dry branches in the mountains. Those dry branches, when the wind blew, they broke off from the big trees with a click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click. After a while, I could pick up a whole bunch of them. Then I cut a long, straight branch, twisted it into an onyx, laid the onyx flat on the ground, and arranged the dry branches neatly on the onyx.　　Bundling firewood is all about technique. Especially the placement of firewood, first of all, the big straight on both sides, small curved in the center, curved into the shape of an arch, easy to bundle, bundled up neatly and tightly. Encounter too curved firewood is not good to put, as long as the curved place with a knife cut, gently a pressure, curved firewood will become straight. Chai set up, the onyx circle into, hands pinch the onyx le, and put both feet on the firewood, while le side of the pedal hard shake, onyx le to can no longer le, the onyx twisted onyx a few rounds, in the onyx door twisted into a small bun, Chai even bundled up. Then, cut to a knife handle big and straight and long tree poles, the two ends sharpened, became a pick firewood spear gun, and then the spear gun cuttings into the firewood, a pick firewood even if it is accomplished. After all, too young, no strength, I bundled the firewood is always not tight, can not go far, will be off, off and cuttings, cuttings and off again. All the way to cut, all the way to take off, I was adults far behind. A day to pick up three picks of firewood, back and forth in these curved mountain road running six times, strength is also slowly increasing.　　In the spring, the hills in my hometown are full of ferns, which we also call dragon claw vegetables. When I was young, I often heard adults say that before the sparrow called, the ferns could not be eaten, and if you ate them, you would be deaf. Before I heard the bird call, the chicken woman rushed the slope full of ferns no one dared to hit. Later, there are still bold to break this taboo. They quietly went to play to eat, and no which deaf ears. So, people no longer believe in this evil, a fern growing season, we will invite companions and gangs, carrying a basket, went straight to the chicken woman rushed, sound and laughter, from this mountain bay fly out, and fell into that mountain bay. The happiest is our children, we drill fast, always run in front of adults, as far as possible to choose the fat hit, the thin small left to adults. We only stopped when we couldn't fit in the basket and couldn't hold it anymore. The ferns seem to be never-ending, today hit the tomorrow. We made a big basket every day. Can't finish, take it to the town, a dime a hand, a basket of ferns can also be two or three dollars, we are also very happy, that after all, it is their own earned money, can't afford to spend. Sometimes lazy, mother will put the ferns in a pot with boiling water wilt, then put in the sun or hung under the eaves of the bamboo poles to dry, stay in the winter fried bacon. Fern fried bacon is a top-quality dish that tastes crispy and crunchy. It was so delicious that I can't say enough about it.　　The Black Pine Forest is a place I often visit. There was a large area of pine trees that grew so densely that we called it the black fir tree because we couldn't see the light of day inside. When it's hot, we get into the black fir forest to rest, which is full of thick pine needles, lying on the top of the soft, very comfortable. Mountain wind blowing, pine waves surging, like the sea in the clamor. If you look carefully, you can see one or two squirrels jumping around in the trees, angelic. Squirrels, that is, are the masters of this pine forest. There are many mushrooms in the black fir trees. In summer, when the sun rains, there are mushrooms all over the fir forest. As soon as school was over, my friends and I ran straight to the black fir tree with our bamboo baskets. As soon as we got inside, it was full of red, white, black and yellow mushrooms. For the red ones, we called it Fo Tan Mushroom; for the white ones, we called it Lime Mushroom; for the black ones, we called it Meijiang Mushroom; and for the yellow ones, we called it Mai Po Mushroom. In no time, we would pick a big basket. When we couldn't eat all the fresh mushrooms, my mother would dry the leftover mushrooms in the sun so that we could eat them whenever we wanted to. The most flavorful mushrooms were the pine mushrooms, which we called fir mushrooms. In the late fall, when it rained a little, the fir mushrooms of the black fir tree would come out one after another. The big ones grow to the top of the dead pine needles, and the small ones are all covered underneath the dead pine needles, so as long as you use your hand to gently pick, the full, wet fir mushroom will be exposed. When cooking, the mother first boil the oil soup, put the cleaned fir mushroom into the pot, cooked, do not need to add monosodium glutamate, only put some onions and garlic salt, the soup, like chicken soup as sweet.　　When I was young, I often heard my grandfather say that the mountains have life and soul. At that time, I had no idea what soul meant, and even now, I can't tell what soul is. But I perceived that the mountain was a giant in the sky. It has spirit, charm and charisma. If the river is the cradle of life, then the mountain is the birthplace of civilization. Hometown of the mountains, for thousands of years, it silently nurtured the people here. Someone from here went out, how many years later, he returned to the mountains. He could not leave the mountain.　　Many years later, I grew up in the embrace of the mountain, with my father's mandate out of the mountain. Now, although I stay in a county town, my soul wanders on the edge of the county town. On sunny days, I often climbed the mountains outside the city, looking toward my hometown, but the green mountains separated, my eyes can not touch the mountains of my hometown. How many times have I dreamed of being in the mountains of my hometown? I started from the hometown of the mountains, walked through the life of one stage after another, over the life of one mountain after another, through the wind and rain, tasted all the sweet and sour, the taste, it is difficult to say. Regardless of whether it is disappointed and sad, or the spring breeze, the hometown of the mountains, is always my strong backing. In this life, I can't cut off the attachment to it. Every time I go home, I have to go to the mountains behind the house to walk, to remember those who have had the sour and happy.　　5, bamboo heart of Zen (Han Fengping) read a small poem, very interesting: my little sister / carrying a bamboo basket to get water / mother said / how can a bamboo basket to hit the water / sister said / but I obviously / hit a basket full of water / all the way / flowers want me to feed / grass want me to feed / and so I came home / no basket of water.　　The heart of the bamboo is empty, the basket is empty, and the heart of the child is even more empty. This little poem is lovely, a faction of childish language and children's interest, the heart does not have a thing, all over the place full of fragrance. One year Zhejiang college entrance examination essay question out of the "children's hearts die early", many materialistic candidates can not understand. In fact, a person in his own world to live, should maintain the original heart, listen to the wind, to be the rain over, this time he is still the world's small baby. I remember a writer said, bamboo heart is a child's heart can be recognized love, that is a kind of love without conditions.　　Jiangsu and Zhejiang farmers like the top of the green bamboo planted in front of their houses, not only shade can be multiplied, but also income can be enjoyed. Because of the green bamboo as high as three feet, cut into bamboo, gabion wire smooth and soft, can be woven baskets, weaving mats and other bamboo products. Bamboo will not rust, will not break, as long as not moth, good care of it, bamboo products are the older the better. Although the heart of the bamboo is empty, bamboo tendons and bones but flexible and real. Those made of fine gabion small countertops, small seats, warm in winter and cool in summer, more breathable than leather and feel friendly, warm. Bamboo stroller push up "creak creak" sound, became the children's teeth to learn to talk to the accompaniment, but also the natural children's heart of the audible enlightenment readings.　　Bamboo tea is a by-product of bamboo, but its deep flavor unchanged, dedication does not change. A friend from Jiangsu recalled that every summer, grandmother get up first thing in the morning, is to boil a large pot of boiling water. Then lead the children to the bamboo forest behind the house to pick bamboo leaves. The children flew into the forest and picked the greenest leaves. My grandmother had a big bucket and a small pot ready, so she filled the bucket and pot with boiling water and threw the leaves into the boiling water. I saw layers and layers of bright green, blotting out in the water. The bamboo leaf tea was finally sent to the fields by the children. During the break, the laborers walk up to the field with smiles and laughs, looking for the shade of a tree to sit down. From the bucket basin, manipulate a ladle, full of bamboo leaf tea, dunked down, that is a heart refreshing!　　If you have not experienced a little vicissitude, you can not fully appreciate the bamboo heart of the forest. For example, in the pavilion, graceful bamboo bush, hiding scattered deformed small bamboo: short, shriveled, bent, weak. But when have these grass bamboos or wild bamboos ever been discouraged? If you can't make a tough gabion, then make a bamboo stick with your own body. Then, for example, music lovers caress the bamboo flute, pipe xiao, although the music illuminates the mood, but it has gone through what a long wait and carefully selected ...... bamboo heart, the most understanding of the virtual in the real, the real in the virtual, that there is a reason. In ancient times, there was a bamboo that was not talented and tried to stop the craftsman from chiseling holes in it. The craftsman, with a sharp knife in his hand, kept chipping and carving, and did not listen to the bamboo's complaints. He was going to make a blowjob out of the bamboo. He said to the bamboo, "O you bamboo, if you did not have these holes in your body, you would be no more than an ordinary bamboo. These holes seem to make you hurt, but they will make you a xiao, and the sound that comes out of your body will warm the hearts of many people. I am chipping and carving you at this time precisely to fulfill you and make you a valuable instrument!" The bamboo heart had an epiphany, the heart song remained, and thereafter for thousands of years molded into a firm bamboo heart that was not afraid of experience.　　Lying under the bamboo forest looking at the top of the towering bamboo - into the starry night sky, I suddenly understand, to restrain the desire of their own heart, the arms have the strength, the soul will be more noble.　　The Zen of the bamboo heart is precisely the infinite Zen of the human heart.　　6, is the clothesline (Lei Chunzhi) weekend trip, see a "outdoor activities base" sign, so we followed the sign on the line to the so-called "outdoor activities base".　　Dirt roads, tiled houses, small bridges, flowing water, an idyllic look. However, this seems to grow naturally in the flowers and plants but there are children cheering maze, ordinary tile house is a high-grade meals, the most attractive to us is hanging in a seemingly ordinary farm yard hanging house, the outside of the irregular wooden stripes stapled, very shabby, take a look at the price of a night, even more than 1,000 yuan, to be climbed up the ladder to take a look at the inside of the air conditioning, refrigerators, TV, sofas, computers and so on everything, is a luxury room, another courtyard, a luxury room. Is a luxury room, another courtyard is a dilapidated bus body, inside the same luxury. Further back, a wooden gate that looks like it is in disrepair, but inside is a huge running yard ...... The last yard, the ground is nailed to neat stakes, stakes tied to a neat rope, what is this for? We were very confused, and my friend said, "Could it be a clothesline? No way, there must be a mystery." We agreed profusely, while the yard crew overheard and said, "It's a clothesline!"　　What is it about the simplicity of a clothesline that has caused us to express our skepticism? Is it the uncomplicated behind the too-simple?　　I once saw such a game: the room put a row of super shopping carts, in the specified time, take out five shopping carts even if the winner, the winning prize is very high, but there is a difficult point, that is, to take the car when the sound can not exceed a certain decibel. Everyone was eager to try, they all thought it was very simple, but ten people went to try, but none of them succeeded, everyone thought it was a game of merchants to cheat people. However, the eleventh person went over, he wanted to try, he and the others are not the same, towards the opposite direction of the shopping cart, only to see him gently pull, a car came out, continue to pull, continue to come out ...... he won. Others look are surprised: "The original so simple, how I did not think!" Originally, everyone from the handle to pull the car, that is the high end of the car, of course, there is a sound, and the eleventh person is from the other side of the shopping cart - the low end of the car, he succeeded. It turns out that it was the direction of the habitual cart that blinded us, and by choosing to go in the other direction, things were simpler.　　Once in such a scene: shopping malls to engage in activities, the gate is crowded with people, to the point of time, the businessman but do not dare to open the door for fear of having, more afraid of the mall inside the mess. And long queued up at the door of the people are not willing to say that the business is not credible, emotional excitement; the mall inside the people are also expressing their views, noisy, who did not have a good way. At this time, I saw a young man in the mall to move out a chair, got the gate, he stood up, shouted: "We both want to get the benefits more want to their own safety it, then listen to my command, each person back five steps, stand in line. One, two, three, four, five." People backed up in an orderly fashion, and the doors to the mall opened. It turned out that the problem is so simple, just need to move a chair to stand up, but, so many people in the mall, only this young man thought of it.　　I remember that the construction of the Bird's Nest had encountered problems, how many experts, designers, architects with equations, formulas can not be solved, however, a few construction workers to do the game of matches but the problem was solved. Learned too much knowledge but can not jump out of the knowledge outside, knowledge will also become our shackles.　　In life, how many simple things like the clothesline, so that we can not see through, can not touch, so that we can not think of the simplest, feasible way. Is it because the world is complicated or our hearts are no longer simple?　　Search so hard, but all found, I hope to help you, please adopt.