The End

About This Novel

My eyes have been lost. I can't tell whether the sweet spring water or the hot, solidified blood under my feet belongs to the loved ones of relatives, friends; I can't tell whether the mountains, plains and deserts I have stepped on are dust, dead rocks, and gravel, or the crushed, dried, and forgotten bones of the loved ones of relatives, friends. A person cursed by 'god', a world about to collapse. A buried history, an eternal proposition. Is all this an arrangement of fate, or is it the self-salvation of the blasphemer? When the roaring sound of the Boeing NG-A380 descended on this sleeping land, everything began. One morning, the sun was just right and the breeze was not dry. Ye Long looked at the black plate ring in his hand and thought blankly: Does God really exist?

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