All the stars belong to you

  When I was writing in the middle of the night, I suddenly picked up a photo from my friend. The night sky on the plateau was dense and bright, and the sky was covered with gems. He asked me to go to the balcony immediately to see the stars. I went, looking up, but the neon lights of the city obscured the light of the stars.
  My friend then called and eagerly discussed the starry sky with me. He said that you have to go to the countryside to look at the starry sky more. You must know that looking up at the starry sky is a kind of ability.
  I admit that this sentence is correct. Not everyone has this ability, for me, I gradually lost this ability. And I, there used to be.
  When I was a teenager in the country, I was very close to the stars. If you zoom back in the lens many years ago, you will see a child in that small courtyard in the country at night, looking up, pointing at the stars, and you can tell the names of many stars. At that time, throughout the year, at night, I would cut a large part of myself to the yard or the street under the night sky.
  The first I knew were Altair and Vega, which my grandmother taught me to identify. The night was thick and the stars were shining. Grandma showed me with her old fingers. Now, have you seen that, the brightest ones in that area are the Milky Way, on both sides of the river, the two brightest ones are Altair and Vega. Then, tell me the story of Cowherd and Weaver Girl. In the following years, every July 7th of the lunar calendar, I observed whether there were really fewer magpies in the village, and whether they all flew to the sky to build magpie bridges. At night, hiding under the Meidou rack, eavesdropping on the love words of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl.
  But that day, there were still many magpies in the village. And I can’t hear anything under the Meidou frame. I complained to my grandmother, but my grandmother smiled and said that those magpies must be lazy; you can’t hear Cowherd and Weaver Girl because you are too young. You can hear them when you are as big as A Cui.
  A Cui is my neighbor and is in love with the two cows in the village. I didn’t ask A Cui about this, because I knew that before I asked, she would smear her fingernails with peach blossoms and casually return to me.
  When I grew up when A Cui was old, I had forgotten to watch the stars at night. I was trapped in the busy world, and I accidentally closed the channel connecting with the starry sky. The wings of my imagination had been soaked by the rain in reality, so I could only gather them up, under the eaves of the city, and watch the colorful lights in the night.
  One night shortly after talking with a friend, I was in the countryside in the countryside. It was invited by another friend who contracted the mountain forest. In the middle of the night, everything is silent, and only insects are whispered. I walked out of the house, standing alone in the field, letting my eyes return to the stars. Each star is a flashing code, and I need to interpret it quietly in order to re-establish the connection with them. They have been waiting for me, waiting for the kid who strayed the road to return to the starry sky again.
  Only then did I discover that when you put aside all the turmoil in the world and stare at the stars with a pair of clean eyes, you can complete a lightning-like exchange and re-acquaintance between you and the stars in just an instant. At this moment, you belong to every star, and all stars belong to you alone. The stars are peaceful, the earth is peaceful, and your heart is peaceful.
  And serenity is the only way to happiness.