Even with an ugly scar, an injury, it's always going to be okay. I went to bed early and woke up early. I woke up at 1:00 a.m., which is pretty early. Sleepily lying on the rattan mat for a while, heard the mosquito buzzing, sound in the ear, instantly woke up. In situ full blood resurrection in the dark bare hands want to hand blade mosquito, in the dark in vain for a while, grinning. That smile, a bit cold, a bit self-deprecating, a bit of grief. So barefoot, wearing a long and wide T-shirt washed countless times, went to the balcony, outside the window lights, that is impossible. I only see a few lights of ridicule, stubbornly bright. I thought I'd sigh, I'd look up at the sky and cry, I'd beat my chest. But I sneezed, cleared my phlegm-choked throat, tried to blow my nose, found no paper in my hand, and gave up. Brokenhearted pain may be far more than heat cold to bring me, but at this moment, I know that in addition to the psychological construction of their own "heat cold as brokenhearted is the same will be cured", but in the heat cold cruel torture, perhaps, take a few pills is a serious matter. If you don't take medicine, nothing will get better. But it is true that a disease like a fever and cold will go away without medicine.