The sweat and blood in battle are the highest honor.
The exaggerated brand on the right shoulder is the word for despair and sadness.
I like both the blond hair and the hand holding the knife.
Both his fighting figure and his proud smile make me envious.
We all laugh at the weak.
We all long for the strong.
We all have Lan Yan, and I envy your fighting style and your cruelty.
My fatal flaw is my inability to be ruthless towards my enemies.
You are my comrade, my master, and my vision
Lan who saved me when I fell into the canyon.
The burning Lan Yan when he fell into the deep pool.
The power to unleash "freedom" is in your hands.
The power to hold the "shackles" is within me.
Against the barrel and bullets, against faith and strength.
I swear, my heart belongs only to you.