My understanding of life

    Life's success curves like a U.S.: at 30, you realize some things are a matter of chance; at 40, you feel your spirits are high but your strength is insufficient; and at 50, you gradually accept your ordinariness. I'm 20 now, but for some reason, I've started to have a middle-aged mentality.

    When I first entered university, I was full of ambition and aspirations for the future. Wearing Converse, carrying a backpack, and chewing gum, I complained about the counterfeits that lowered the brand's prestige for Chanel, Gucci, and LV, yet I constantly hoped to own a piece of their clothing.

    Entering the workforce, my punk and dark fashion, which I used to habitually conceal, gradually shifted towards high heels and sophisticated, mature attire due to the tastes of male university students. The elegant, ethereal beauty of Guo Biting on screen, the aloofness of Guo Caijie—each one I once admired. The understated elegance of a white dress and the haughty allure of a black skirt only made me, with my plain looks, appear as just another face in the crowd.

    Freshman year of college—an age where one is unwilling to focus solely on studies, yet feels aimless, eager to socialize, but unsure where to begin. Using the word "naive and confused" to describe this feeling seems too childish, yet a more fitting word cannot be found, so I'll just make do.

    Living in an unremarkable small town in northern England. Arriving in London, a metropolis perpetually pursued and touted for its economy and culture, I imagined myself admiring famous landmarks like the London Eye, London Bridge, and Buckingham Palace like a tourist, visiting a few museums, and donning glasses to appear intellectual.

    But I discovered I wasn't even as good as them; between substance and appearance, I unhesitatingly chose the latter. After work, I spent my time wandering through Oxford Circus, Selfridges, and other major shopping malls, admiring the dazzling array of luxury goods in the shop windows, sighing at their exorbitant prices. Occasionally, I'd take out my non-credit card—a blue Barclays card with a balance never exceeding five figures—and swipe it to buy something that seemed appealing, but was probably only there because of its glittering brand name, before heading straight to the next store.

    The materialistic Taurus woman from the TV series, who thought it didn't exist in her own body, is actually in her blood since birth, and is now gradually showing herself.

    During the day, sitting in her sun-drenched office on the seventh floor of central London, watching the endless stream of clients, the cautious, unanalyzed employee pulls out a copy of Han Han's *The Life I Understand* from her drawer, flipping through it while pondering the life she desires.