"Li Yan, how do you see this era?"
The Qiao Xing in the vehicle pursed his lips, his appearance already quite rugged, and now with a stern look, he resembled a sculpture carved by Michelangelo.
"Is that question very important?"
"Of course. You can speak frankly, don't hold back on anything."
"It's terrible, the worst era. To put it bluntly, I have no nostalgia for any of this."
"Right... no hot water, no fine food, no clean air," Qiao Xing nodded thoughtfully, "Decadence, nihilism, passion, freedom, those were my most intense feelings when I was living in the wilderness. But what about establishing order in the ruins, kindling torches in the darkness? Does such a harsh winter also have a different kind of charm?"
"I think you misunderstand me, what I'm calling lousy isn't the harsh environment of the winter."
"Oh? Then why?"
"Forget it, it's nothing."
