Perhaps due to the stimulation of nightmares, Zheng Qing's imagination in his childhood was strangely rich.
For example, he once held a firm belief that toys were alive.
Every time he stayed alone in a room, he would pretend to sleep. With his eyes half-closed, he would sneak peeks at the toy figures on his desk, hoping to catch them playing when he was not looking.
Now, as a university student, he noticed a certain decline in his imagination.
The statues in the square were alive - they strutted proudly around the empty space every night; the murals in the corridor were alive - they unreservedly engaged fresh students in heated discussions about touchy subjects such as 'the best wax for preventing decolourization' or 'the principle of using egg whites to repair cracked paintings'.
