Day fifty · Halfway point

The mint on the windowsill has sprouted new leaves again.
I remember the first day I wrote these words, I casually pinched off a branch and placed it in water. At that time, I thought, if I can keep it alive for fifty days, it would mean that some things don’t need to be forced to survive.
Now it has truly grown roots—thin and white, floating in the water.
Day fifty. Halfway there.
Looking back at what I’ve written over these fifty days:
Sometimes I write on an airplane, with the person next to me watching a movie, while I’m writing about the relationship between K-lines and Zhuangzi;
Sometimes I write in a café, the waiter comes over to refill my water and asks what I’m writing, I say I’m keeping a diary, she smiles and walks away;
Sometimes I write late into the night, the whole city asleep, only me and the glowing screen.
When I was writing, I never thought I’d reach fifty days.
Just like planting the mint, I never thought it would survive.
Someone asked: what’s the point of writing all this?
Can you make money from it? Can you gain followers? Can it turn into a wealth code?
Honestly, I don’t know.
But what I do know is:
These fifty days, because I had to write something, I observed life a little more each day.
Watching how clouds drift, how leaves grow, how sunlight slowly crawls from the windowsill onto the bed.
These have nothing to do with K-lines, but they have everything to do with me.
Fifty days in, exactly halfway.
I don’t know what will happen in the remaining fifty days.
But with your company, that’s enough.
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