There is a Qingshui River in Asakusa Slope, and there is a private school on the river bank. My husband is very young, in his mid-twenties, and he settled here two years ago. At first he helped the villagers copy books and write letters, and later he opened this private school in response to public opinion to teach village children. Although my husband often smiled and shook the fan in his hand and said, "I don't want to read for deep understanding, but for fun." However, the various books that my husband picked up in his spare time gradually filled two large bookcases. The villagers all regard him as a saint, but they don't know his name or where he is from. They only know that he is not in good health and usually has to stop attending private school in winter and rest all day. The wrists that were occasionally exposed were covered in scars, as if they had experienced some terrible ordeal.