When a drop of ink is added to a glass of water, you can see that the final figure it merges into is soft and graceful. Finally, it survives in the cup as a glass of water. Its existence is extremely easy to ignore. When a drop of water is added to a cup of ink, its soft and graceful figure is unfortunately invisible. Maybe it struggled and was frightened before merging, but so what, in the end it was forgotten as if it did not exist. The ink is black, and every drop of the water it dyes black has really existed. Perhaps it should be said another way. Every drop of ink was once a drop of water that made itself. The cup at this moment is a soul that has been eroded little by little. Its existence can only represent darkness. The most important thing is the erosion of a soul controlled by ambition.