Postscript: It was another sleepless night, the moon was dim, the trees were dull, the cold wind was howling, and the doors and windows were whistling. The air is cold, and the winter cold refuses to leave me. My heart was twitching, and it had been so embarrassing since when. It was like using a rusty knife to cut raw and cold meat. They were dead things, which only made my arms dull and painful. It's long past the time when I would feel so miserable that I would cry out to heaven and earth, and I would have the word "uninhibited love" on my heart. In the haziness, I seemed to see the movement of the coastline, like a hand-controlled incandescent lamp in the dark night, flickering on and off, and the sound of the whistle spread. I stood in panic at the pier watching the ferry go further and further away.