□□ Is easy to dye white, and the white road is also black.
I don't want to fight hard to be a dragon, but I want to work hard to be a dog.
I never thought things would turn out like this, so unreal. Is the violent, arrogant and hateful prince in front of me really my son more than ten years from now?
I don't know, I don't understand, I don't know.
I only know that my son is no longer my son, or I am no longer me.
I think I'm really dead.
Since death is already dead, one must always do something for the living.
I want to help my son ascend to the throne of the Nine Heavens.