I am willing to bear this ferocious face to atone for the sins of my ancestors; I am willing to risk my life to achieve success for my benefactor; I am willing to step on the bones of my predecessors to search for the world. But why can't the world satisfy my little selfishness? I just want to avenge my relatives who depend on each other for life, and kill thieves with my own hands, that's all.
I gambled with my life and lost to chance. I gambled with my heart and lost to power. Even if I survive the catastrophe and walk through the world again, I am still unable to fight against this ragtag crowd. In the end, the hatred has not diminished, the old friends have changed, and the love has become an ironic scar. What else am I praying for, what else do I dare to hope for.
If there is an afterlife, I will definitely not fight in the rivers and lakes, it is so hard.