The snow in my memory has never stopped. Every day I can hear the hoarse and desolate cries of crows. There is heavy snow all over the sky. The air is filled with the moist smell of blood. There are corpses all over the mountains and plains. All kinds of illusions.
I was born in a place in this world that I still don't know what kind of world it is. I grew up with my two friends, one named Wu Jian and the other named Ling. They called me Feng. There is nothing easier than death here. People die every day, and every day there are extremely bright vanilla flowers that bloom because they have absorbed blue blood. Every day, the sad cries of crows pierce the sky before dawn.