This time I went south and met an old man in a city. He told me a story.
"Why are you sitting here alone?" I saw a touch of sadness and loneliness on his face. It was long-lasting, as if loneliness had been with him for a long time.
He stopped looking at the north and looked at me.
I saw a pair of eyes full of vicissitudes of life.
I said, "Do you really want to go to the north?"
"How's it going there?" The old man asked in his hoarse voice.
"Where are you talking about?"
"Beicheng."
"That's where I came from, it's very prosperous."
"There was a ruin there a long time ago." The old man's voice was faint, but I still heard some sadness.
The old man continued to narrate the story in his sad voice, and I slowly entered the past country and witnessed everything.
Intention: People must be happy if they are proud of their voices