Loose Cultivators

When I graduated in 2011, I was still a teenager. As my father went to the construction site, then to the factory, then to the construction site, and then to the factory again, he changed places every year and never felt stable. Over the years, I have known many young people like me. They were confused and unwilling to live at the bottom of society. They looked at the high-rise buildings, famous cars, beautiful people, and suffered in their hearts. I see a lot, I hear a lot, but I can't say anything. Life is so difficult, just talk about happy things, and keep those sad and inexplicable words in your heart. The classmates who dropped out of school are worried about the 300,000 yuan gift and a car and a house; the workers who used to work have either become fathers or are still in Internet cafes; among my good friends in the past, those who have been admitted to college want to take the postgraduate entrance examination, and those who have not been admitted to college are preparing to get married. The power of reality is too strong. Everyone I know has been changed. Who still remembers the original dream? I was the only one who was crazy. Although my parents didn't tell me, they knew they would call me crazy from the time I quit my job to write without telling them. The family has no money; you are still single; you have no diploma; you have no connections; you actually gave up everything for the so-called "dream"! If escaping from their arranged life is a lunatic, then I am crazy, hopelessly crazy. I really want to write some stories, about those young men who draw swords, about those bright girls, about those free and easy masters, about those roaring casual cultivators, about those heroic legends that have been with me for ten years. You only live once, forgive me for wanting to be free. I just want to be free. Free.

The long road is like blood, I walk alone

I hope the author can work hard and take good care of your body. The body is the capital of revolution.