Klein's growth is like a spiritual practice that travels between the dark night and the dawn. From a "lonely soul" who was initially trapped by desire, he transformed into a being who knows how to hold on to the glimmer of light in the shadows.
When he first embraced him, as the Book of Ecclesiastes said, "What has been done will be done again; what has been done will be done again." Driven by the primitive bloodthirsty instinct, he repeated plunder and loneliness under the moonlight, thinking that eternity was nothing but endless "drinking poison to quench thirst." At that time, he believed that "power is king", just like Nietzsche's metaphor of "the abyss looking back at you". While devouring the lives of others, he was also almost devoured by his own darkness.
Until one chance, he caught a glimpse of an old man who was still clutching a book before he died, chanting "Hear the Tao in the morning, and die in the evening." That persistence for the meaning of life was like a spark crashing into his frozen heart. He began to reflect: If eternal life is just a prisoner of time, how is it different from Prometheus who was trapped on the cliff in "Homer's Epic"? So he put away his fangs, sneaked into the hidden compartment of the library, and searched for answers in the yellowed classics - he understood appearance and reality from Plato's "Allegory of the Cave", learned restraint from "Knowing to stop without danger" in the Tao Te Ching, and gradually understood that "the strong do not never bow their heads, but know when to bow their heads."
When he saved a dying child on a rainy night, instead of treating it as "fresh nectar" as before, he finally understood what Goethe said in "Faust": "Beauty reveals its eternity only in its disappearance."
