Behind the glory of the past lies countless cruelty and indifference. The truth of the past is buried deep in a place that no one can touch. On the land soaked in blood, the castle made of bones is so prosperous and beautiful that it shocks the heart. But it still cannot hide the deep feeling of sadness. In the night wind, there are bursts of painful whispers. Whose success or failure, whose merits and demerits, who has achieved or sacrificed for whom? The seeds called hope quietly take root and sprout on the ancient earth. I don't know whether the future will bring endless joy or endless pain. Tonight, let us raise a glass together and pray loudly for the boy who is named hope! Bless you, son of hope!