A Bloody Path Against the World: a Machiavellian Song of Hatred and Love

When I was writing "A Bloody Journey Against the World", I was meditating on the outline of the story in my room, and the scene flashed back repeatedly in my mind - the snowy night, the raging fire, and the shattered "Megatronic Mountains and Rivers" plaque. At that moment I knew that I was not actually the author writing the story, but the story was asking me: "If your whole family was massacred, you were wronged, and all you had left was a knife thinner than paper, what would you do to overturn the verdict?" So I let Chu Yichen (or Lin Dan) come back to life in the morgue. He speaks for the dead, and he speaks for me; he cuts open the corpse with a scalpel, and I cut open the abscesses of the times with a keyboard. We each carry sharp blades, each guard the dark night, and each waits for the moment when the "momentum dryness" reappears in the world - it is poison and a key; it is the flaw left by the enemy, and it is also the last chance of survival for the survivors. When writing about tactics, I dare not write about golden fingers that "must win", but only about choices that "must be painful"; When writing about love, I dare not write about the "destined" sweet pets, but only about the "destined" look at each other - in the yard where the smell of corpses and the fragrance of plum coexist, some people use a piece of incense to predict death, and some people use half a cup of cold tea to ward off murderous intentions. When writing about revenge, I don't even dare to write a cool article about "a great revenge is repaid". I only write about the long remaining life of "a great injustice has not been avenged" - because the real injustice is never about killing the enemy with one knife, but cutting yourself into pieces with a thousand cuts.