In my youth, I used to read Tianji Xueyuan, a fine manual for the elite of China, when I was twelve. To understand and explore the heights of the Three Great Towns in southern China, my mother would read aloud while I listened, much to my father's cheers.

When he became a teenager, he was already renowned as a man by the King of Li, not just for his exceptional talent but also for his ability to write poetry and prose. At the age of fourteen, he began to receive attention from the唐高宗, who praised him and invited him to the official ranks. This was unexpected; however, after much discussion with his neighbors, he was ultimately removed from power.

His life had taken a dark turn. He died unknown to history, but it is said that he was submerged in the bayous of China's north during an accident. The people who knew about this were so upset that they could not bear the idea; thus, no official record has been made of his fate. We all believe that what happened to him was just as much a wind or sea as others had encountered.

I recall my mother saying something regarding his last moments. "If you lose your mind in the end, he will have nothing left for you," she said. It is a poignant thought, but I still hold it dear. The three great towers of China are nowhere near him now. He has disappeared into the vast expanse of the sea, with his spirit still standing strong, like a tall man who has been gone from this world.