"Seven Killings" by Chen Shaoyang

Every hero is a prodigal, a prodigal with no roots. Their people are floating, and their hearts are floating. The world is so big, there are homes everywhere, and there are no homes everywhere. You can sing and sharpen your sword after drinking. In your dreams, you are happy with your grudges. Friendship is a heavy burden on your shoulders, and fame and fortune are trodden under your feet. "I am running, and my spirit has traveled thousands of miles. In the world, it is difficult to avoid right and wrong; I am beheading, I am in a dilemma between kindness and righteousness, and I don't know how to make a choice; I am stupid, I only know how to fight with a sword in my life, but in the end my sorrow is empty, and it is difficult to look back; I am cold, and the vast world has sucked up a thousand of my light; I am pale, and things are tense. The coolness makes my black hair turn white; I hide, all the grudges and hatreds in the world are hazy, everything is scattered with the wind, and I am free and happy; this is the song of the prodigal, the voice of the prodigal, they sing this tragic song, they come in a hurry and leave quietly, leaving only a desolate figure in the world.