Butterfly Boy

The first face-to-face conversation between R and "Butterfly" was full of gunpowder. After he took the file and looked through it, he found out the real name of the young man in front of him. "Ying Lian." The man spoke slowly, without even raising his head. "Why not call him Ying Zheng?" "I don't think that the eight major surnames in ancient times have to be added with the word "political" to be considered powerful." The reply was full of gunpowder, and the man couldn't help but raise his head. The boy put his elbows on the dining table and supported his chin with his fingers crossed. His eyes were bent, and his pupils were as vast as the sea, but there was no smell of gunpowder. "Why kill?" R stared into his eyes. The corners of the young man's lips raised sarcastically, and he spoke slowly. That voice was clear and powerful, like a speech to millions of people. "Corrupt dirt, dirty worms, drifting with the crowd, blind arrogance, hypocrisy and despicability, desolation and dilapidation. What is the meaning of these things?" "What about you? Why do you exist?" The man raised his eyebrows, looking forward to what the other party would say. "Clear." "Is this a butterfly?" "Butterfly?" Ying Lian chuckled, and his clear voice revealed a disdainful dignity. "It's Shiraz." Intention: