I carried the oil lamp and walked towards the darkest corner of the garden, where a bud was faintly growing. The flower was planted here when I was young and ignorant. I knew that such a small corner could not support flowers, but I stubbornly Plant it here and let it struggle to take root. 　　It is the most special flower in my garden. I also want to take care of it with my heart. I always want to write something for it, but I can’t do it. Do I pity it? No, it’s just that every story has nothing to do with it. 　　Looking at its tender green but…