**

Thousands of reincarnations, every struggle and effort, are like a flower planted by my own hands. I watched it grow little by little, watching it sway in the morning light, as if it would bloom with the most brilliant colors in the next second. But fate always ruthlessly turns it into nothing at that moment, dissipating in the cold river of time and space. All my efforts and hard work seem to have never existed in the eyes of the world. No one cheered me, no one valued me, not even a trace was left. I was like a child running in the dark, trying my best, but only getting endless silence and emptiness. The world, to me, is like a huge, heartless theater. The audience sat indifferently in the shadows, turning a blind eye to the pain of the weak and scorning my efforts. I can only move forward alone, helplessly looking for a trace of warmth and comfort, but always disappointed. Those abandoned souls, like me, wander in the wilderness, forgotten by the world. My body and mind were already riddled with wounds, but I was still dragged by fate to embark on that familiar and painful journey again. Every step is scarred, every breath is bitter. But even so—— This time, I still have to ask myself: Will you still choose hope? Will you still choose to believe, even if you have been hurt thousands of times?