The Paradox of Eye Pupils of Spiritual Pet and Mortician Li Wenqi

Have you ever heard what an animal says before it dies? The stray dog that was run over by a wheel "said" in the palm of my hand: "The sister in the red dress once fed me a sausage." The old cat, who had passed away, rubbed his head on the back of my hand and sighed: "She always said she would take me to the beach when she retires. Now I want to go and see the smell of the waves first." My name is Li Wenqi, I am a person who can "hear" the emotions of animals, and I also work as a sender for animals. When Internet celebrities abuse pets for traffic but pretend to cry to raise funds, when bulldozers run over the nests of stray cats, and when empty-nesters tremble holding the remains of their pets - I walk through it with my toolbox, wiping away the fear of each dying soul, and letting them bid farewell gracefully in the candlelight and chrysanthemums. There is love here that is purer than that of humans: a lame stray dog ​​guards the blind old man's vegetable stall every day, blocking traffic, and an abandoned parrot repeatedly "hums" an off-key ballad taught by its owner before it dies. There are also evils that are more piercing than the night: the glamorous "cute pets" in the live broadcast room are tortured by electric shock collars in private until they urinate blood; organizations under the banner of "loving rescue" exchange donated food for moldy leftovers. I have seen warm farewells and torn through ugly disguises. In this era when even people are living rough lives, someone has to stand up for the voiceless - even if I am scolded as "treating animals better than people", even if I am suppressed by capital, I will let every last step of my life be listened to carefully. When superpowers become unspeakable shackles, when the person I trust most turns away, should I protect love with these eyes that can see the truth, or risk everything to tear apart the disguise of the powerful? When the moonlight illuminates the dissecting table