The blood on the Twenty-Four Bridge has long been washed away by the rain, leaving no trace. But it seems like nothing has been rushed away. The man dressed in white and holding a sword was still standing at the bridge, looking down on all living beings with his sharp eyes like an eagle. Even though tens of millions of people are besieging me, I remain unmoved...
Concept: How will a righteous young man grow up in this injustice?