In late autumn, I stood alone in Orange Island, watching the surging Hunan water running northward. Thousands of peaks have all turned red, and layers of trees seem to be dyed: the river is crystal clear and a big ship is racing against the wind and waves. The eagle flies in the vast sky, the fish swims in the clear water, and everything is fighting for a free life in Qiu Guang. Facing the vast universe, I feel disappointed: who should dominate the ups and downs of this vast land? My classmates and I used to walk here hand in hand. Talking about state affairs together, countless extraordinary years still haunt me. The students are in their youth: everyone is full of enthusiasm and energy. Commenting on state affairs, writing these turbulent and clear articles, treating the warlords and bureaucrats at that time as dirt. Remember when we crossed the river and swam to the middle of the river, the waves almost blocked the speeding boat?