Tonight, by the river bank in a foreign land, the scholar in dire straits was allowed to give full vent to his sorrow during this cold autumn when wild geese flew high. The river could infinitely swallow the tears of all the unblessed through the ages.

On such a night, sitting there without any sympathy for himself, he was not only listening to the sound of his own heart being eaten away bit by bit, but also watching his own life like an expiring lamp in the strong wind, which spent all its energy in resisting the wind, but the weak flame would die at any moment since the oil was running out.