In the starry sky we look up to, there is no real sun, but there is the moon. The moon reflects the shadow of the sun, but there is no passion like the sun, only tranquility and depth. No one is another person's shadow, they are all themselves, but in some cold and damp place deep in the heart, where there is no light, the seeds of despair are quietly sprouting, slowly wrapping the whole beating heart, and the roots suck the bright red blood, which will turn the person into another slave of himself, corrode his mind, and turn this person into a walking zombie. He keeps talking about justice, but has long forgotten what justice is. There are no born criminals, only the dangers of the world, and psychology is precisely the most subtle existence in crime, but it is also the most mysterious existence.
Intention: To discover the many sides in everyone's heart