Reflections on the Night of the Nineteenth

In the middle of the night, I recall the carefree, happy times when I used to write novels. Without realizing it, my old friends have gradually drifted away, and only a few remain in contact. Only now do I understand the feeling of the line by the Song dynasty lyricist Liu Guo that has recently gone viral online: “I would buy osmanthus and bring wine along, but in the end it is not like the travels of youth.” “There is no banquet under heaven that does not end” is both an open-minded acceptance of an established fact and a helpless lament after it has happened. The weight of these words can be very light, or very heavy. At this moment, I repeat them over and over, bidding farewell to my past self over and over, yet my heart cannot help growing sentimental. Perhaps my friends have all left this room one after another, and only I have not yet walked out, still lingering in it.
Recorded on May 19, 2025