When the sail shadow finally merges into the sea and sky, it is no longer clear which is the ship, which is the cloud, and which is the light.
Donghai swallowed all this in silence, as if there had never been a ship called "Cangming", carrying people who didn't want to be buried and memories that didn't want to die.
But the rising sun really jumped out. Thousands of golden lights, like thousands of arrows, shoot through the last armor of the night.
A Han national civilization, in its deepest night, chose the most decisive farewell - for the most remote and determined rebirth.
——The end of the book and the beginning of civilization——
