What is life?

In the dark night, a brown thrush bird lay on top of the fallen leaves, and the rain fell off with dust. "Go, it is dead," said the friend. But I don't believe that the bird's faint breath reveals its unyielding belief that it will survive! I gently wiped the rain on her wings and looked at its scarred body. I had to pray silently. In the darkness, a ray of sunshine shot, the bird blinked and twisted a few times, and then began its new journey! This is life.

The second day: Peng Ziyan