The Last Human Machine

In autumn, in July, Su Zi and his guests went boating under Red Cliff. The breeze comes slowly and the water waves are calm. Lifting wine to the guests, reciting poems about the bright moon, and singing graceful chapters. After a while, the moon rose above the east mountain, wandering among the bullfights. White dew flows across the river, and the water reaches the sky. Even if a reed stops, it floats as if it is left alone in the world, emerging into immortality. So he drank and enjoyed himself very much, and he buckled down and sang. The song goes: "The orchid oar is hanging on the osmanthus, and the light is shining in the sky. I feel the mist in my heart, and I look forward to the beauty in the sky." There is a guest who plays the cave flute, and I sing along with it. His voice was whining, like resentment, admiration, weeping, complaining, and the lingering sound was like a wisp. The lurking dragon dances in the secluded ravine, and the concubine weeps in the lonely boat. Su Zi was stunned. He sat upright and asked his guest: "Why is this so?" The guest said: "The moon and stars are sparse, and the black magpie flies south. Isn't this a poem written by Cao Mengde? Looking to the west of Xiakou, to the east of Wuchang, the mountains and rivers are close to each other, and it is so gloomy. Cang, isn't this what Meng De was trapped in by Zhou Lang? He conquered Jingzhou, went down to Jiangling, and followed the river to the east. He sailed thousands of miles, covered the sky with flags, drank wine by the river, wrote poems across the river, and was a hero for a lifetime. How can he be safe now? This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.