This is a novel about "how expensive it is to be sober." When an ancient object gives an ordinary person the ability to see the line of cause and effect - to see where an artifact comes from, where it will go, and what kind of obsession it is attached to - the first thing he feels is not power, but fear. Because every sight consumes energy, and every ray of truth will leave traces eroded by the fog in the mind, and these traces can be accurately tracked by opponents. Therefore, what Chen Yu needs to learn most in this life is not to use his abilities, but to refrain from using them.
The theme falls on this proposition: In the concrete jungle where information is surging and conspiracies are dense, how can a person not only protect himself, but also protect the people and life he cherishes. This is not a story about "the protagonist grows from weak to strong", but a story about "the protagonist never dares to delve deeper, to must delve deeper, and then bears the price of delving deeper". The tone is set to be cold and restrained, mixed with a weak and continuous atmosphere of human fireworks. Cold because the truth itself has no temperature; restraint because every move on this chessboard is an exchange of price; that little bit of warmth comes from the food stalls in the streets and alleys of the old city, the noise from the radio, and the cats squatting quietly on the eaves - it is precisely because of the heavy fog between heaven and earth that the glimmer of light is worth protecting with one's life.
