He often felt the smell of blood in his palms, and felt that the heart inside that cold skin was cruel and violent. He gradually realized that he had lost the ability to laugh.
Everyone thought he lived a clear life, but in fact he asked himself, could he really distinguish between right and wrong?
Are the blood-stained things he did really worthy of recognition?
Is that supreme monarch really worthy of his recognition?
Is the "justice" he advocates really justice?
It takes a long time to understand this, and it takes a lot of courage to take that step.
Fang Hanxiao, are you ready?
Concept: Everything you believe may not be true