Thus would Yang be rescued from the hell of public service. A quiet life, secluded from public view in some little corner of society, wouldn’t be bad at all. He could live in a little cottage among the rice paddies, where he would tilt back a glass of brandy on cold nights as he listened to the wind blowing outside. On rainy days, he would sip wine as he waxed nostalgic, thinking of the epic journey of water through the atmosphere.
— Yang is so relatable, I swear.