Chapter 7 14-15

_14_ Like what Fellini said, music is cruel, and it fills me with nostalgia and regret. At the end of the song, I don’t know where the music is going. I only know that it is an unattainable place, which makes me feel even more sad. That unattainable place, Yongju came back and told me that seeing the peach blossoms in Shandong, the entire peach blossom forest in the countryside is very enchanting.In the Yimeng mountainous area, almost every family is a martyr. It is not a family that has fallen soldiers, but migrant workers.He walked through the woods trembling, thinking he would never see me again.

Yes, that peach blossom forest.Three thousand years ago, King Xuan of Zhou lost a battle with Quan Rong. On the way back to Gaojing, he heard children singing, "The moon will rise, the sun will disappear, and the state of Zhou will almost perish.Three years later, during the Zhaigong Festival, in the middle of the night, a beautiful woman suddenly came from the west, walked into the Taimiao, laughed three times, cried three times, bound the gods of the seven temples into a bunch, and slowly went east.King Xuan of Zhou ran to catch up, but it was a dream when he woke up.Only after this dream did I realize that the three laughs corresponded to the feudal lords playing Baosi, and the three cries corresponded to Prince You being killed by the dog army.

Peach Blossom Forest.Legend has it that when Daji was beheaded, Ax Hyun raised his hand three times in a row but was unable to do so. In the end, Yin Jiao, the son of Zhou, covered his sleeves and beheaded. Peach trees exorcise ghosts, peach charms ward off evil spirits, and peach blossom girls fight Zhou Gong. The girl is dressed in Tsing Yi, and the place where she lives is dry and not rainy.Back then, when Chi You fought against the Yellow Emperor, he got the help of Master Feng Bo Yu, and despite the heavy wind and rain, the Yellow Emperor sent down a heavenly maid named Ba, and when the rain stopped, he killed Chi You.

There was also the sound of yellow ants fighting like thunder, and the stone man in Zhongnan Mountain cried himself, and the blood rained down. The stone man said, "Three seven twenty-one, come out from the beginning of the word, step on the ground in all directions, and the fruit head has three bends." Huang Chao. . There were three consecutive Southern Dynasties in a thousand years, the Southern Song Dynasty, the Southern Ming Dynasty, and the Southern Min Dynasty.Qin did not support scholars, and millions of tigers and wolves scattered in the rivers and lakes.Crazy people, the debate between Confucianism and law.Lu Xiang's disciples, the revolutionary who used martial arts to break the ban.Avalokitesvara burst into tears.From red to green, homosexuals have no country.

So that in my purest youth, in my purest belief in the One Truth, I did not become patriotic? Whether it is similar to the populist line of Yukio Mishima and his comrades (Wood + Shield), or similar to the passion of all students, such as the slogan posted at the University of Tokyo, "Don't stop us! Mother, the ginkgo behind is crying .” Every time, I brushed past various groups and various propositions.Even because I was born with the appearance of a courtier who is good at listening, every time the other party misunderstands that I am already a natural member, they want to treat me as a confidant.But it didn't take long before something went wrong somewhere.I clearly felt the other party's disappointment, and I really felt too sorry and too unworthy, so before the other party showed indifference, I hurriedly distanced myself.

Yongju was also at that time. Especially in those few years, when everyone picked up their cameras and went to the mountains and seas to record reality, Yongju was ordered to take pictures of the Atayal people.After filming, he fell in love with a young man named A Bei, and lived in Hualien Mountain for half a year.Abei and the others couldn't keep their clan names, so they took random Han names in response to household registration needs.Yongju herds sheep, climbs betel nut trees, and peels betel nuts with his tribe.He also learned how to cut ramie from Abe's grandmother, quench the fiber, twist the yarn, and then boil the miscellaneous yellow yarn into snow white with plant ash and hot water.He also learned to identify dyes such as the fat root of the yam, nine calyx, tall millet, solanum bark, Indian color flower, UNTSUM grass, WAYAI TASH grass.He even learned to weave colored cotton threads between hemp threads on a horizontal sling machine, creating a red, blue, and black striped piece of cloth.He is very innocent towards Abei, at most he will hug and sleep together when he is drunk.

We often diverge from the subject.Looking back on the way we came, the course that has gone all the way has come to today.Our sexuality has taken us away in the first place. More than no country.Violators, diasporics, desocializers, apostates, I am afraid we too are fatherless. So is it a fatherless society?Feidan said that this thing of revolution is a kind of patricide?What about Fan Lihua killing her brother and father?Nezha gouges out the flesh and returns the mother and the bone to return the father?none of above. Dead ancestors. Eighteen years ago, on a damp night in February, Ah Yao and I watched the story of a stolen bicycle in the test room. Instead of going back to the school to rent a dorm, we walked back to his house together.I lay on the single wooden bed in each nest, and he was listening to music on the US military radio. It was a hot and humid night, so we decided to go downstairs to get some air.Go out the back door and walk towards Zhongshan North Road.There is no wind, when it is dark, it comes in, it goes when it is dark, the cat's love, the street is really dark.Suddenly, a storm swept down and there was nowhere to escape. We rushed under the arcade and saw military vehicles heading towards Yuanshan one by one.The rainstorm came strangely, and we got goosebumps.The next day I found out that it was a great man who had passed away, and the Meat Association issued a ban on slaughter for three days.

My sister wore a black cloth on her arm, and the three TVs only showed black and white for a whole month.When I went home, there were people gathered at the entrance of the village. When Brother Liao saw me, he came forward and hugged me, which made me cry.I stayed in this group of companions, some of them went home blankly, but still came out to gather again.Although I first saw a great man a few years ago, with white gloves as small as a grain of salt waving, and a muffled voice, great men are also human.But those gorgeous peace doves and balloons, tens of thousands of boys and girls squeezed into a square at the same time, when they disbanded, it seemed like a big ebb tide. Teams evacuated indiscriminately and poured into the alleys around the square.There are crepe paper flower crowns of girls everywhere, and the waves of flowers are reluctant to part, rubbing against each other all over the street, and wandering.A Yao came to me from another class and dragged me to track down a boy who looked like James Dean, saying he was from the middle school.I followed him as far as I could, and I followed him distractedly, and then I ran into a school girl who was winding half of the road, and they all drifted away like Magu's birthday, carrying a flower basket in pink dresses and heading towards the square.I was really fascinated and followed the Magus.But the oncoming people were like crucian carp, and I was walking against the tide. Seeing every face looking at me, I would really kill me, so I ran away in a hurry.Walking forward aimlessly, I am too unwilling to end this way.Fewer and fewer flags were planted on the side of the road, and people gradually became thinner. After walking far enough, I could still hear the music in the square behind, like a circus after the show, like a playground where no one plays in winter. Tell me to keep, keep slumping, it's over.So occasionally three or two girls holding flower crowns appeared in front of me, and I felt so tearful that I wanted to go up and say hello, as if I saw my companions who were stranded on the beach because they were too late to leave when the tide was low.

I am so sorry, those of us at the entrance of the village!They have long been separated and have gone their separate ways. The village is about to rebuild a state house, and several households have moved out. Because of the death of the great man, they were driven back by a wave of emotions, snuggling and snuggling.Maybe it's the bold nudity of the last night, because tomorrow is so different. For a whole month, the village put this collective into a hypnotic state.Forget for a moment what eve is this eve. The great life parallels that are broadcast repeatedly on TV, as well as various commemorative activities, programs, and interviews around it, everyone fell asleep in memory.The great man’s, everyone’s own, overlapping and indistinguishable, I said it over and over again along with the patriotic songs that were about to sing, which became the farewell ceremony of my hometown.Myth, and oblivion.

Continuity, and breaking that continuity. The future is the same as the past, and the memory is lost. And I have seen the living interpret the dead according to what they seek, and the dead continue to change within the living.The dead die, but the dead live again at every definitional change of the living. I am trying to use this meditation to resolve my life and death doubts.It's just that such a dead person must be a great person first.Like my generation, what great definition can there be for living people to improve over and over again?The definition of my species can be summed up in one word. If there were words on the tombstone, it would say so--the color chaser, he died before the color faded.

Yes, Chaser.Yukio Mishima finished his last novel The Five Decays of Heaven and Man, Appearance, Speech, Sight, Hearing, and Thinking.Then he went to Ichigaya, where the Self-Defense Forces were stationed, with his comrades, called on the Self-Defense Forces to awaken and transform the social culture with bushido action, and then committed seppuku.He was the great martyr among us, the martyr. And the most typical premature death, Nijinsky.With his terrific strides and mid-air stops, Jay said he descended more slowly than he ascended. He swayed rhythmically to Debussy's music in the afternoon of the faun, and then stopped in the pose he held, as vivid as an ancient Greek relief.In order to achieve this goal, he went against the classical rules and asked the dancers to dance with their knees bent and their feet flat on the heels. He asked the dancers to keep their faces sideways but their bodies still facing the audience, and their arms were fixedly bent at various angles.As soon as this dance came out, slander arose everywhere.With the Ritual of Spring, which caused riots on the day of the premiere, the second dance was a perfect success.The only remaining sound is for future generations of dancers to repeat and reverse the case. He performed in public for less than ten years, suffered a mental illness at the age of twenty-nine, and lived to be sixty-one in the hospital!His wife, who had only been married to him for five years at the time, was saddened. He was gradually taken away by an invisible and incredible force, away from his art, life, and her.She was very flustered and wrestled with this terrifying force, not knowing why and not being able to explain it.Her husband was still as considerate, generous, and lovely as ever, but he was a different man. Therefore, I didn't want to know any news about Jie anymore, just like the gray and yellow continent left alone in my world map. After many years, Yongju invited me to see the performance.I looked at Jie Wuta on the stage calmly and completely understood Jie's words, there was nothing mysterious or difficult to understand.Karma removal, I even saw that as a dancer, he died when his most trusted powerful body was no longer able to move as he expected. The dancer keeps dancing in front of the mirror, and his movements cannot be fooled.Over time, he would come to believe in his body.He expresses to the world with body writing, so the death of physical ability is no different from making him silent like a salmon.Compared with the average race, he did experience two deaths. Things hurt their kind, I shed tears. Yongju comforted me by saying that he could choreograph. I still regret that one day in the future, he will not be able to express directly with his own body!He was originally a creation of himself, unfolding, revealing.To show is to be, and to show is to be self-sufficient.He is a dancer and he is also a choreographer.But soon one day his body died first, and his ideas and skills were left to be passed on through others, so he could only be a choreographer.He can only accept and adapt to this position and destiny.As he said to me, "You have to get used to it." Yes he's going to go through what I've been through. His master's master jumped to the age of seventy-six, and jumped to the Queen of Troy. The old Hekba bid farewell to the stage watching the images of her loved ones dying in front of her eyes.This is fortunate, and also, unfortunate. Because if I lived long enough to be that age, everyone I loved would probably be gone too.For example, since October, Fellini fell into a coma.He suffered a heart attack in Rimini two months ago, and he was paralyzed after he was discharged from the hospital. This time, he was hospitalized again. Julietta went to the hospital to accompany him every day, but he was unconscious.According to today's papers, Julietta fell ill from overwork. Last year it was Saya Jirei who died, and this year is 30 years since Ozu passed away.I have only recently realized that the so-called generation refers to the playmates of teenagers, the bridesmaids and best men at weddings, the hostesses making trouble in the bridal chamber, and the funeral committee when the funeral is done.If I live long enough, I will be the only funeral director left, and I will become the blind Tiresis in Greek mythology. Tai, the only person in mythology who has ever been a man and a woman. Because the Zeus couple debates which party has the stronger pleasure between male and female orgasms-they think that the other party must have more pleasure than their own, which means that the other party who has more pleasure must compensate and make concessions in other aspects. In short, the party with more pleasure That is, a lot of debt.None of them wants to take on the debt, so it's up to Tae to judge.Tay told the truth that the pleasure rate of women is about nine times and ten times that of men.Sheila was furious when she heard the words, and immediately blinded Ty.Zeus bestowed two things on Tai, longevity and prophecy.Tai became the prophet of Thebes. The prophet has no sleep, he gets up in the middle of the night like an old man, and the Son of Man has no place to live.He's just lived long enough to see what has happened will happen again, and he can't help but tell what he knows, and naturally, no one will listen.The voice of the wilderness, language is hard to bite.So he talked all the time, all the time, until Tai Luo cropped and was silenced.Otherwise, he would be speechless, alone and lonely in the generation where all witnesses died. If longevity is for love, if one of them dies first, Yongju said that his chin is sharper and sharper and he will die before me, so what about the other one? I thought about it for a long time, and said to Yongju during dinner one day, indeed, my heart is much stronger than yours, and I will die later than you.So I will stare deeply and write down the entire process of your death, never letting go of a single moment.Then, just as the Great Wilderness Eastern Classic told me, there is a big ravine beyond the East China Sea, which is really just a bottomless valley, and there is no bottom below it, which is called Guixu.I will live on the cliff of the great ravine, and witness how many people and generations pass by me and enter the great ravine without returning. I will also wither and become a mummy squatting there with a pen, and I will still write endlessly. Yongju, you see, this is what I was like in the last days, until I too was weathered and turned into a stone. A Yao, who died, believed in the Lord before he fell into a coma, and was also blessed.I rushed to Fusheng Hospital, and when my mother saw me, she rejoiced and informed me.I said great, great.However, A Yao and I both know that this is meaningless to the dead and comforting to the living, so just believe it.He let go of his mother, after all. _15_ Yes myth, and oblivion. I took a pilgrimage group to Bodhgaya, the place where Sakyamuni became enlightened.The old Bodhi tree spreads out a large canopy of branches, and the Vajra throne under the tree, no matter how you look at it, it looks like the big banyan tree that is common in the villages and towns of this island and the ecological landscape gathered there.Stepped on the juice rotten.Here is a great pagoda of Zhengjue. When the Muslims invaded in the 11th century, Buddhists buried it with soil. Later, it was found out according to Xuanzang's "Da Tang Xi Yu Ji".There is an open space outside the Enlightenment Office, full of tricycles and poor people.I came to India for no purpose, just for the days that I have been away from me for too long. I have spent half of it, but there is still a winter vacation and the old calendar year. I am afraid that I will not be able to bear it and die lonely.I told in the phone recording that I had gone to India, and when I would come back, I would leave the ordinary message to Yongju who would call back to know.I have recorded it many times, and no matter how I choose words and sentences, I feel like a last word.I seem to leave my body in the house, and my soul goes out of my body to look for Yongju, who may not be in this world anymore So I came to India, could it be that I came to a deserted place in my heart.The farther I go, the more I leave the society I live in, the closer I seem to be to Eternity. So I witnessed that late at night, Sakyamuni got up from his sleeping wife and children.He stared at the faces of his wife and children under the moonlight. This face was indeed the face of all living beings that he had been thinking about for a long time since he left the city last time.He fell more and more deeply in love with this collective, comprehensive, symbolic, sentient beings.However, living beings, becoming, living, deteriorating, and empty, all living beings are a history of destruction.Can get tired, ENTROPY, (fire + business).Thousands of years later, Shi Tuo said that anthropology can be changed into business anthropology, a science that explores the disintegration process at the highest level.Sakyamuni, he can't extricate himself for the sentient beings of that symbol, he wants to say goodbye to his wife and children under the moonlight and go away. I saw him walk out of the bedroom and wake up Channa, the ruler, lead out a white steed (bull + step), and go out across the city.He took off his fine clothes and accessories, ordered Chennai to bring them back to his father, and headed straight for the snow-capped mountains. Now the snow-capped mountains are just on the horizon.Mountains without edges and corners, two arc peaks. The water of the snow-capped mountains, the Nilianchan River, and only the desert is left in front of me, which is more than a mile wide.There are villages on the other side, green wheat fields, woods, and betel nuts.I crossed the dry sand, and the residents walked with blue baskets on their heads. Under the scorching sun, the sand seemed to be full of gold powder.In the shallow puddle of water in the middle of the desert, someone rinsed their clothes, and after drying them on the ground, the white desert was exposed to redness. It was wet when it came, and it was dry on the return journey.The pilgrimage group is led by the head of the group to do the Great Sun Tathagata by the beach, visualize the sun, and absorb the solar energy as their own energy.The group traveled all the way, giving empowerment non-stop. I saw the snow-capped mountains for six years, and Shakyamuni's bones were scattered like AIDS patients.He got nothing, so he abandoned his rebellion and practiced hard work and came down the mountain.He walked alone, went to the river and passed out. I read the records that after the hunger strike ceremony, the man started ten days of asceticism. The text stated to me that on the fourth day of the hunger strike, he fell into a coma.On the fifth day, he woke up under the sun, his vomiting stopped, and he gradually gained hearing and vision.On the sixth day, he heard the morning prayer on the prayer ground and tried to recite the prayer hymn. He heard his own voice.My own body is aware.His thinking, like finding the first thread in a chaotic cocoon, was spun out of his mind in a curled, silky way.The past is like a boat slowly swinging out of the vast sea. At first, it was a little bit, and then I saw the white sail mast, saw the cables, saw the hole in the sail mast, and the sailor's eyebrows.The boat passed by head-on, meandering the waves, and headed for the far sea, gradually, gradually, disappearing without a trace.A kind of sorrow and joy, hard to say. On the seventh day, he got up in the morning and got off the rope bed, walked to the side table and sat down, read a dozen pages from the book, and slept soundly at night.On the eighth day, he tried to open the door and walk eight steps.At this moment, the state of mind is full and complete.In the early morning of the eleventh day, Gandhi held a meal ceremony for him, handed him a glass of grape juice and orange juice to drink, and said, the penance is over, eat. I saw, right here, where I was standing, that the shepherdesses of the village lifted the custard and fed the chylus.Sakyamuni woke up and regained his strength.He thanked the shepherdess and said that all sentient beings live on food. Yes, yes, the so-called sentient beings regard food as their heaven.Sakyamuni then crossed the Nilianchan River, entered the city, sat under the bodhi tree, and realized his final equation of the universe. I climbed up the short hillside in the village, and the cowbells jingled, and white cows passed by me one by one.Yesterday I walked the Yuanhe Plain, the road went straight to the skyline, and after five hours of driving, I encountered the first turn, half an hour later, the second turn, and arrived here.The trees are Bole, the fields are wheat seedlings, rapeseed yellow flowers, and sorghum blooming in large swaths of purple smoke.Black and fertile soil, white cattle line up, and every open space is full of people. A country without cities.In India, I don't feel a city, but a collection of houses on the ground, or the houses are just a cloud of dust.Spread a blanket on the dust, and the person sitting in the middle, smear incense ash on the forehead, dot Zhu Zhi between the eyebrows, everything in the civilized world is here. Thus in India, there are not even antiquities, monuments, structures made by man, or material universes.Everywhere, everywhere seen, only human beings. Do you know that the caste system thousands of years ago tried to classify the population so that it could survive, and solve the problem of quantitative deterioration. Shi Tuo lamented that vegetarianism is the failure of India's great experiment!In order to prevent social groups and animal species from encroaching on each other, to ensure that each group of people and each species has its own special freedom, the method is to force each to give up enjoying the freedom that conflicts with others. Then Sakyamuni starts from negation of negation, negation of existence, right? India is the hot dust on the plain, and the cool starry sky on the plateau.The most resigned baseness, and wild fantasies.There is its vulgar world of desire, so there is its opposite lonely land.Tagore founded Forest University, the last lonely town in India. And when I came to India, it was India where Buddhism had long disappeared.More than a thousand years after Shakya's death, the Arabs invaded, and the monks merged into Brahmanism. Five hundred years later, Buddhism disappeared from India. I was in Varanasi, crossing the Ganges in the early morning fog.I bought two volumes of marigolds wrapped in linden leaves, with a star of wax oil in the leaves, lit a flame and floated away on the water.The flames in the mist leave the boat one by one, spread out, and then disappear, leaving bright yellow flowers. Those who got up early in the pilgrimage group also took the same boat. The head of the pilgrimage group gave initiations to them for several days, and his body was very weak, so he became seasick.Next to him were two female disciples, wearing down jackets like space warriors, and high-top sneakers under the grease tights, guarding him on the left and right.The pilgrimage group asks for divination for everything, and they must ask for it when they encounter a temple, and the head of the group also strives to store the leftover water in his own pot. I envy them for being such affirmative in the secular world.They roam exotic lands, yet they are more hardcore, practical advocates than anyone else in their societies. Ah, the Hindu holy city of Varanasi, which is full of gods, I have seen it in Sayaghire's movies.The rock yellow holy steps across the long bank are immersed in the holy river, and the people standing in the water to bathe in the holy water, the crows squatting on the trellis, and the sutra chanters on the carpets on the bank after bathing.The entire holy steps are a crematorium, and there are no houses on the sandy land on the other side, only the sunrise. There are corpses covered in sesame oil densely clothed in germ cloth, orange and pink for women, white for men, and yellow for children. They were soaked in the holy river, and then burned with firewood on the bank.Ten steps and five steps a stall, several relatives gathered around the fire and burned it to the ground, day and night, Yuyu pupils, adjacent to the city.The cremation here is paid to a family named Runjit, which is hereditary and does not engage in government affairs.In the city and along the coast, there are many red-brick buildings serving as inns for waiting to die. The compartments are divided into countless small holes, where the waiting to die and their relatives come here from all over the world. I saw, the holy river Ganges, where the living bathe and purify their bodies, and the dead ascend to heaven.The god here is not a symbol, is there a real god?God really lives here?There are flames and flowers drifting in the fog river, like many ghosts, many creatures, with colors and forms, such a scene of life and death with solid forms. I witnessed that when the box containing A Yao was sent into the furnace and the heavy iron door was closed, my mother's shoulders twitched.My blood rushed up, but my heart was still shocked. We went up to a tatami room on the second floor to drink tea and wait for A Yao to be burned to ashes. On the first floor of the Zhaichang, there is a light mirror marble hall with crystal lamps, which is very similar to the entrance of a restaurant.For the two incinerators, it can be seen that the two black doors on the wall have yellow brass handles. They were all from the mother's church, and the sisters sat around the mother, chatting relaxedly and laughing.There are three or five men, one is the nephew of the mother's biological mother, and there are no other relatives.His mother adopted him to his aunt since he was a child, and his uncle married in.Back in Japan that year, because all the men in the family died, she took care of her aunt, and soon her biological mother moved back to live in the old house.The two old sisters suffer from Alzheimer's disease, and sometimes they smear their stool on the wall, or get lost in a neighboring village and fall into a ditch.The mother inherited the old house. After the old mothers died, they sold the old house and replaced it with the current nuclear family-style small bungalow.I became the representative of my mother's family and sent A Yao to the fire. My mother cried several times, always pressing the neatly folded handkerchief to the right eye and the left eye, at most three times, and the tears stopped.She is wearing a black kimono, and her tears are like those on a Noh stage, a gesture, a dance, a symbol. I was puzzled by my mother's peaceful face.Just like Garbo's downcast three-quarters tilted face, the generation of Fellini always couldn't help but think of the final judgment when they saw such a face. Twenty minutes to go, let's go downstairs. On that day, the Varanasi public crematorium was a large platform, on which a firewood frame was set up and burned for five or six hours. The ashes were collected with a bamboo broom into the dustpan and poured into the river, and the residue was mixed with slag and ash. All of them went into the river.For the sake of sanitation and outlook, the government provides electric incinerator services free of charge, and no Indians care about it. We went downstairs to wait in front of the stove. The door was opened and the stove was still red.When the box was pulled out, the ashes of Ah Yao were faintly lined up in a straight line, like a stick of burnt incense sticks laid flat on the ground. I will never forget that when the medical staff came in and lifted the sheets of A Yao, I saw his dead, naked body that had been eaten away by AIDS, and there was nothing left.Only, two big kneecaps, and a cumbersome penis.The phallus was a big bag, and it was the only flesh on the naked body, so it looked so bulky that it was extremely surprising. The neat undertaker swept the ashes into the bright steel square basin, tweezed up a ring-shaped bone ring and showed us that it was the bone at the throat.Its shape really looks like a person sitting cross-legged in meditation. The two of us formed a group and picked up a bone into the tube with long chopsticks. After sealing, the cylinder was put into a square wooden box, and then covered with a snow-white thick paper cover tied with tassels and tassels. At the end, the undertaker lifted the brim of his hat slightly to salute the bone box. I held the box and returned to Fusheng's house. Ninety-one kalpas, three kalpas have Buddhas, and the remaining kalpas have no Buddhas, how pitiful.Therefore, the Buddha world is difficult to value, just like the flowers of Udampala trees and trees, which are there every now and then, but people don't see them. I sent A Yao to be burned.This is just the beginning, the first one. The shadows of the sun flew away, and I burned them one after another.For example, today's newspaper said that Fellini was dead.On the last day of October, Taipei, Qiuqing. I take a break from writing for a while, and go out for a walk for the death of a Buddha. Look, under the sandstorm sky, everyone is competing to build a skyscraper city. We haven't seen the sun for a long time.Four blue-and-white carriages drove past in the gray mid-air, and Yongju and I made an oath that when this train officially operates in the future, we must keep in mind and remind each other not to take it to avoid burning to death. Time is irreversible, life is irreversible, but when writing, everything that is irreversible is reversible. So writing is still going on. ~End of the full text~