Zhu Xiaozhuo could still remember his laughter many years later. It was clean and refreshing and seemed to have a slight sweetness, just like the fragrance of honeysuckle in early summer, shining in the air through the scorching sunshine. It was long and unobtrusive but had a refreshing fragrance. She tried to forget it countless times, but she always remembered it clearly in her heart. Until the cruel reality came overwhelming to her, she was in so much pain that she could only escape, drinking poison to quench her thirst in search of "painkillers", but she forgot that "drugs" are addictive, and quitting requires a more painful price.
We are all the same, wrapping ourselves in layers of armor, hoping to escape unscathed from the battle called love, but in the end it is just a delusion. No matter how complete your equipment is or how powerful your martial arts skills are, one day there will be a knife that can accurately penetrate the layers of armor and reach your heart. The difference is that some knives are fast and seal the throat with blood; some are slow and use blunt friction to cut out uneven scars.
In the end, we become sad people with a knife in our heart, and we never dare to get close to others, because getting closer will only make the knife penetrate deeper.