The edge of a sword comes from sharpening, and the fragrance of plum blossoms comes from the bitter cold.

Mo Dao Sangyu is late, and the sky is still filled with clouds.

The road is made by feet, history is written by people, and every step of people's actions is writing their own history.

If life is just like the first meeting, what's the matter with the sad painting fan of the west wind.

Fatalism is an excuse for weak people who lack willpower.

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