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Hard work implies something is rotten, and rottenness suggests hard work.
The trio sauntering down Shenyang Street might embody a poor showing, but amidst the ridiculous and absurd cries of "Squad leader, you're totally a base bully," a thick sense of performance coupled with simple, genuine feelings followed one after another.
Just like the King of Han, standing atop the high platform, as he watched Zhou Li pull out all the stops below, a contemplative look appeared in his eyes.
Zhou Li, one could say, was an oddly shaped youth of talent. You could call him handsome, but the beastly things he did on a daily basis overshadowed any issues with his appearance; after all, even the handsomest person is revolting when blowing up shit.
You'd say he's talented, which is true, but if you claim he's skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, the Four Books and Five Classics, the old scholars would be the first to die wrongfully, committing suicide to prove their innocence.
