When the moonlight spread over the branches of the old banyan tree, 23-year-old Shen Qinghuan put the rope around her neck.
Behind her is a home that was shattered into shards of glass, the smell of blood when she was locked in the equipment room during her senior year of high school, and the endless stream of "mental illness" on the screen - and bipolar disorder became the sharpest knife, nailing her to the cross of "madman".
But fate accepted her bet with death as a bargaining chip.
When I opened my eyes again, the scabs on my wrists had not faded away, and the papers for the first day of my senior year of high school were piled on my desk. This time, she was no longer afraid.
As the perpetrator's tears fell on the court floor, she suddenly remembered the wild rose on the window sill of the mental hospital.
It turns out that the thorns growing out of the abyss will eventually pierce all high-sounding lies; and living itself is a change of era that leads to death.
Intention: Ignite the light of self in the abyss