I am a refugee from time. I have no ability or ambition to change history. I chose to live a life wandering in history just because of a political struggle. The arrival of each life made me fearful, and the departure of each life made me sad. Repeatedly, slowly, I looked down on the ups and downs of life. There are so many people and so many things, some of which have been passed down over time, while others have been swept away by the turbulent thousands of years. Only I am shuttled through them. During this period, was it loneliness? Or desolate? Fear? Or is it the happiness of immortality? It has been hundreds of years and I have stopped thinking about these things. I still remember what my father said to me when I left that year: "Even if death is tolerated by time, you must remember to cherish life. In each time and space, you just live a good life." So, I just focus on the present and survive like this. You ask me, is it a blessing or a curse to choose this kind of life? I can't answer. I'm just a woman traveling through history, and I can only tell you my story.