After Yashan, I had no country left.
They chose to die for their country. I chose to sell it out.
I became the Mongol Yuan’s most loyal lackey and the wealthiest merchant in Jiangnan.
I used the heads of anti-Yuan rebels as stepping stones to advancement, and traded the lives of loyal ministers and great generals for gold and silver.
The world called me a traitor to the Song, and I accepted the name gladly.
In this chaotic age, all the loyal and righteous died beneath Yashan.
The only ones left alive were people like me, who could even sacrifice their own kin:
True traitors.
They lived in a dream, while I was responsible for building a new world.
As for the cost, it was nothing more than being reviled for all eternity.
This kind of hero with "dirty hands and clean heart" is truly touching; he walks on the edge of morality every step of the way, making people feel numb and unable to stop watching.