This book expresses the author's fascination with length, a road, a river, rainbows after rain, endless memories, a ballad that begins and ends, and a person's life. All this is like a bundle of coiled rope, slowly pulled out by narration and pulled to the end of the road.

Here, the author sometimes does nothing, because he finds that fictional characters have their own voices from the beginning. He believes that these voices should be respected and let them find answers in the wind. Therefore, the author is no longer an intruder in the narrative, but a listener, a patient, careful, considerate and empathetic listener. He tried to do so. When he narrated, he tried to cancel his identity as an author. He felt that he should be a reader. This is also the case. When the book was finished, he found that he knew no more than others.

The characters in the book often speak for themselves, which sometimes surprises the author. When those appropriate and wonderful words blurted out in the fictional mouth, the author suddenly felt inferior and thought to himself, "I can't say such things." However, when he becomes a real reader, when he reads other people's works, he often gloats secretly: "I said so."

This seems to be the pleasure of literature, and we need its influence to correct our thoughts and attitudes. Interestingly, when many great works influence an author, he will find that his fictional characters also influence him in the same way.

This book is actually a long folk song, its rhythm is the speed of memory, the melody jumps gently, and the rest is hidden by rhyme. The author only fictionalizes the history of two people here, but tries to arouse more people's memories.

Matthias said: "Recalling the past life is like living it all over again." Writing and reading are actually knocking on the door of memory, or both are for living again.