When that glass of poisonous wine slid down my throat like a sharp knife, I suddenly realized that I couldn't be as free and easy as I imagined.
Why do I begin to regret drinking this glass of wine? If a person cannot smile to death, it is always because he is nostalgic for the world.
What about me? What I can't let go of is the high official position and salary that everyone envies, and the adequate food and clothing; my admiration from all the people, my famous name passed down from generation to generation; my beautiful family like flowers, my confidant and beauty; or the smoke and clouds of this prosperous age, three thousand prosperity...
Maybe, none of these are, then... What are they...