In the afternoon of the rest day, I had nothing to do. I turned up the old pictures of playing in Sheshan, and thought of Sheshan, which N had not been to for a long time. Seeing the good weather, I didn't have much trouble. A man drove to Sheshan. I've been here many times before, but I remember riding downhill from the platform to both sides of the mountain, not really seeing the church at the top. This time I want to enjoy the building quietly by myself. Selected the time of nearly 17 o'clock specially, accompanied by the sunset, the red exterior wall was illuminated with a special beauty, a bit like a bloody monastery. Because of respect for religion, the inner hall was not photographed. Visits do not require tickets, and there are not many people during the visit. Some devout believers kneel outside to pray to the statue of the Virgin Mary, and many young people will move around the building, but generally speaking, it is quiet. I left with my staff. When Grandpa and Grandma locked the iron gate, they chatted a little and learned that they were all volunteers living at the foot of the mountain. When watching the sunset melt in the wall, the soul seems to be a wash. Beauty has always been that simple.