Xiangtang

Over the past thousands of years, there have been many people. In fact, they have always been there, in the annals of history and in people's hearts, but many more people have long since disappeared, without records, names, or even a trace. From ancient times to the present, everyone is not the second person, let alone the reincarnation of someone else. Everyone is the only one. In the short but long decades of life, some of them, including you and me, have worked numbly for a few taels of silver, no more than beasts; some have intrigued for their own desires and selfish interests, without caring about others; some have devoted themselves to the sake of their family and country, and feel compassion when they see the suffering of the people. In the end, the difference is just that it rots together with the coffin sealing earth of the hilly tomb, or it is burned into a handful of white ash and scattered in the air in the wind. On their deathbed, some of them should also be shocked to realize that they are actually just a wisp of smoke on the big incense burner of time, which will be completely dissipated by a gentle breeze. The people of Qin had no time to mourn for themselves, so that future generations would mourn for them; if future generations mourned without taking note of it, they would also cause future generations to mourn for future generations again.