I Took Japan by Storm with My Writing

Just an insignificant little nobody. That was Zhili's first impression of herself. In fact, by an ordinary person's standards, she was probably a truly miserable nobody. She woke up in a filthy, squalid slum, covered in injuries. She knew all sorts of basic facts, but The only memory she had of herself was her name: Zhili. And one other rather important thing: she couldn't speak. Later, Zhili still thought of herself as an insignificant little nobody. She put what she wanted to express into words, writing them down one by one. Words were how Zhili, unable to speak, made herself heard. They were also how she made a living. That was the full extent of what words meant to her. >>> Perhaps it is precisely because she cannot speak that Teacher Zhili's world is so unlike ours. Her writing has a unique sense of self, leading readers to contemplate the darkness and decay in this world. Not a single biting remark appears between her lines. Indeed, the more infuriating the words, the more calmly she puts them to paper. Perhaps it is this contrast that lets us glimpse the girl quietly watching humanity move forward... Though this description might be called a case of adolescent grandiosity, I believe it is, in fact, perfectly apt. Like a compassionate deity, standing beside the current of time. From the weekly magazine Literature of the Times Zhili: ? Sorry, I was just