Outside Shaojiu Alley, drum sounds echoed in the night as the night patrol spoke in a long drawl: "Morning rooster crows, early to bed and rise!"
Chen Ji lay sleepless on his bed in the east wing room, staring at the ceiling until the rooster crowed outside, and drum sounds came from the street by Jade River.
The little monk beside Chen Ji suddenly sighed and said, "Master, searching for a sword that sank with the boat will never bring back the sword of years past."
Chen Ji stared steadily at the ceiling: "The sword is still the same sword; the boat is still the same little boat, how can it be different."
The little monk lay there beside Chen Ji, also gazing fixedly at the ceiling: "Perhaps the sword is the same sword, perhaps the boat is the same boat of years past. But the boat has journeyed thousands of miles, the sword rusts amidst the river's silt...the state of mind has ultimately changed."
