I Could Have Endured the Darkness

At the age of thirty, I decided to write about my life. From the sweet smell of grass needles in the mountains of Guizhou, to the cold slap in the face of a rental house in Shanghai; from the secrets of the chess and card room in Anshun, to the long dark night of the assembly line in Zhejiang. I was like a piece of luggage, being tossed around in broken families and unfamiliar cities. Amid indifference and being used, I grew up to be a silent "tool man". This is not an accusation or a legend, just a record of real life. Contains traumatic narratives, so those with weak psychological endurance should read with caution.