Ever since I learned of Xia Yao's death, I've been worried that I wouldn't be able to shed tears at the funeral. After knowing her for many years, this is somewhat inhumane. I tried hard to recall my college life and various experiences since then, hoping to find something that could stimulate my tear ducts, but I don't know why, but I just couldn't cry. I didn't have a single tear.
We live in the city and we pursue the life we think we want, but we don't know what we have lost. ． ． ．