In the midst of an extremely peaceful and calming night, a beautiful maiden sat on top of a swaying who was hanging in an elderly tree. She kept swinging her body while staring at the seaside in front of her eyes. The waves continuously hit her legs gently because she is not wearing slippers, bitter is what she feels at the moment. While being swept repeatedly through her fantasy, she smiled, not a cheerful smile as usual, nevertheless a bitter smile. Again, she couldn't lose sight of that man. Again, she couldn't run elsewhere from the questionable faith and repeatedly she couldn't attempt to find a replacement to put back that man's place. She was particularly pathetic, wasn't she? What she can accomplish at the moment is recently trendy her circumstances and also the past that can never be vanished from her memory. Her contemporary life is comparable. There is no purpose again. In contemporary present-day, she lives inside the monochrome earthly sphere and cannot run anywhere as late as someone who loves her comes to pick her up and make her a concubine.