To My Dear Work

My name is Chen Yan. Some people would use a certain word to describe me. But I don't like it. That word is too crude and not worthy of my intention. I prefer to call myself - Yan. What interests me more than the incident itself are the people chasing me. I watched the young ones grow from immature to calm, and I also watched the experienced ones slowly change their way of looking at things in the maze. They followed my footsteps, stepped on every footprint of mine, and walked step by step until today. They thought it was all their own efforts. Only I know that every step they take has my traces. I don't need them to know. I just want to see what a soul that has been carved by my own hands will look like in the end. No matter what his original background is. It's fascinating, isn't it? This is a letter from a creator dedicated to his work. —————— Human version: The narrator "I" of this book does not run away or show off. He regards cases as teaching materials, and what he enjoys is watching the soul that he carved with his own hands grow step by step. He looked at all this and felt that this was his most satisfying work. Not because he won. It's because everyone's struggle and "growth" is real.