When autumn floods came, a hundred streams poured into the Yellow River. Its current swelled so wide that from bank to bank one could not tell a horse from an ox. The River God was delighted, believing all the beauty under heaven was gathered in him. He drifted east with the current until he reached the North Sea. Looking east, he could see no end to the waters. Then the River God began to turn his face, gazing out at the vast ocean and sighing.