Library

There are tens of thousands of heartbeats waiting in the sea of ​​stars, but the hourglass of fate always hides the brightest stars deep in the clouds. The trembling heartbeat when we first met was never the magic circle of fairy tales, but the red thread woven by the spinning wheel of fate shining in the dark night. At the fork in the road of fate, we are always shaken by the thunder when we first meet, and the roses fall from our hands. But when the tide of Tokyo Bay overflows the bank of memory, those souls polished by time will finally understand: The real fateful encounter is not a passing coincidence, but the soul tremor caused by the intersection of two star paths. This time we stand on the other side of time holding the tempered courage. What is wrapped around our fingers is not only the cherry blossom-colored silk thread, but also the gilded pen and ink that rewrites the script of fate. Jiang Li unveiled a corner of the world, where the imaginary hero's crown is adorned with roses and moonlight. Countless days and months later, he would still think of that rainy night with lightning and thunder. The young man at that time did not understand that the real heroic story never flows on the seven strings of the harp. It is the meteorite iron that has been forged repeatedly in front of the quenching table. Every hammer blow is splashed with sparks of decision, and the rising mist during quenching is filled with sobs of resignation. Just like Achilles under the wall of Troy, when the tip of his spear pierced Hector's throat bone, the epic only recorded the glory of the divine blood, but wrote that the melted snow in the armor became the wine of Dionysus. The crown of the ruler of power has always been crowned with life.