My name is An Ruosu.
From a white-eyed college student to a special soldier.
Later, I died in the summer when I was twenty-six years old.
The moment he fell, what appeared in front of his eyes was not the flames of war or gunpowder smoke, but that September morning eight years ago.
The sun was just right, he stood on the playground and said to me:
"You, come here."
Purpose: Women's growth article. I'm sorry for being born a girl, but I don't want the shackles society has given me. I will be as free as a bird flying across the channel.