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It was autumn when I returned to my hometown. The sky was as gloomy as the white fish belly floating on the water in the pond, and gray and black clouds spread miserably in the field of vision. The cold west wind made the dead branches tremble, and a few sparrows fluttered among the branches without finding a place to land. It was in such weather that I returned to this remote village, dragging my suitcase and hunching my neck. My mother told me when I left my hometown: No matter how elephants wander around the world during their lifetime, they will return to their own elephant fields when they are on the verge of death. While knitting a sweater, she said: In fact, people are the same... This time I came back suddenly, as if there was something attracting me, making me fascinated and intoxicated... This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.