I looked at the moon and no one spoke first. Silence stands in the wind with coolness, staying forever for the sadness of lying in bed and not getting drunk. The soul turned into a simple lantern of Kongming, flying and breaking in the air, turning around in pieces of ashes, giggling and laughing before the clouds. This voice drowned the sigh of the night, flowing and stretching in my heart. Through the cold window, I looked at the moon silently.