The sweat and blood shed in battle are the highest honors.
The conspicuous brand on your right shoulder speaks of despair and sorrow.
I love everything about you, from your golden hair to the hand gripping your knife.
I admire everything about you, from your battle stance to your proud smile.
We all laugh at the weak.
We all yearn to be strong.
We both wield Lan Yan. I envy your way of fighting and your cruelty.
My fatal flaw is that I can't bring myself to be ruthless toward my enemies.
You are my comrade, my mentor, the one I look up to.
The Lan who saved me as I fell into the gorge.
The blazing Lan Yan when I plunged into the deep pool.
The power of "freedom" is in your hands.
The power of "shackles" resides in me.
Against gun barrels and bullets, against convictions and strength.
I swear my heart belongs to you alone.
Author, are you going to abandon the article?