The saxophone resounded through the sky at midnight, and the sad melody filled all the gaps in the whole city. Lonely souls floated around in the gray sky without any thinking or dependence. The heart is like a piece of red in the eternal wind and moon. Let it wither and wither, but it will still dance with thousands of tender feelings, leaving the last lingering fragrance like water and dyeing all the sadness. Just because, just because of the night when you are away, cold nights breed loneliness, release melancholy, and make the ink in the tip of the pen fail to form chapters and poems fail to form lines. The astringent whisper of the corners of the mouth can only be turned into a sigh with the wind and quietly pervades the night.