They hope that I will seek justice and that Master Qingtian will make the decision.
But in the Republic of China, where warlords fight, the law is a gun, public opinion is money, and ethnic rules are like mouths to eat people.
I am Lin Jingtang, Lin Wan's "goods" in captivity, and also her accounting office for opium and human trafficking.
In order to survive, I knelt down and licked dog food mixed with mud, endured the bone-eroding addiction to cigarettes, and even stabbed a knife into my lover's chest with my own hands.
My hands are dirty, my heart is dead, I don't seek justice, I just seek survival.
Since the clan elder wants to be silenced by Shen Tang, I will burn down the ancestral hall dedicated to my ancestors.
In the sea of fire, Lin Wan died, but I lived.
Mixed in with the refugee flow, no one knows who I am.
Lin Jingtang had died in the fire, and the only survivor was a homeless man holding a fake ID card stained with blood.
In these troubled times, living is the greatest revenge.
