At the boundary between fog and shadow, every delivery is like polishing a rough stone. You think that what is peeling off is cowardice, but when your fingertips touch the increasingly cold edge, you suddenly realize: the price of the so-called "power" may make the heart gradually forget how to get hot. Those softnesses that are used as chips are originally the roots that anchor existence. When the last ray of warmth sinks into the deep sea, those who win the game just become prisoners in their own shadows.
