一百年前,一位虽听得见雷声但已聋得听不见大型交响乐队演奏自己的乐曲的五十七岁的倔强的单身老人最后一次举拳向着咆哮的天空,然后逝去了,还是和他生前一直那样地唐突神灵,蔑视天地。他是反抗性的化身;他甚至在街上遇上一位大公和他的随从时也总不免把帽子向下按得紧紧的,然后从他们正 One hundred years ago, a reluctant single elderly man, a fifty-seven-year-old single who could not hear a large symphony orchestra playing his own music despite listening to thunder, shook his fist to the roaring sky and died. He had always been so distraught and despised the world since he was alive. He is the embodiment of rebellion; even when he meets a Dagong and his entourage on the street, he always presses his hat down tightly, and then they