In the afternoon, I polished my little corner at home until it shone:

I pried open the keyboard and cleaned each key, cleared all the tea stains from the tea table, put away a bunch of flashy but useless items except for the frequently used owner’s cup and fairness cup, assembled a long-awaited bookshelf, and threw away a large pile of unnecessary things.

I genuinely felt happy, perhaps because the room became much tidier, bringing inner peace, or maybe it was the joy of letting go after discarding so many things, or perhaps it was a combination of both. As I get older, I increasingly appreciate minimalism in everything.

While throwing away the trash, I encountered a stray cat looking for food. Since I had fed it a few times, there was still a sense of trust, and it surprisingly dared to follow me back. After feeding it, it squatted beside me, staring blankly at the fish in my aquarium. I prepared a warm little nest for it; it can stay if it wants, or wander if it prefers.

I think the meaning of life and the feeling of happiness are probably like this!

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