Nara felt like a breath after motion — calm, precise, almost sacred. My apartment near the new hotel mirrored Japan itself: spotless, structured, beautiful, yet bound by its own order. Over dinner with old friends, stories surfaced like steam — faith, control, quiet struggle. Lanterns flickered through temple air, footsteps echoed on stone. Between perfection and feeling, I found the truth of Nara: serenity built on restraint, beauty holding its breath.

From Nanjing to Nara

Turning Life Into Sound:
I never used to keep a diary. Then I discovered AI music. Now, instead of writing pages, I turn my days into songs. Each track is a snapshot of a moment, an emotion, a story I’d rather turn to a song than hide in words.

From Nanjing to Nara

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