Every man has a knife in his hand. It can be manzhushahua's flower blood or lover's tears. But when you pick up the knife, your heart has changed. Sooner or later, the knife will be full of killing, whether it is just or evil it will be like a prison, full of chains, which will imprison you in the besieged city of heaven and earth. No matter how you hide or hide, the alienated knife will be buried in the bottom of your heart Anle has wanted to leave the life of the interloper for a long time, but the knife in her hand has never been put down she deeply knows that in this war of encirclement and killing, once she puts down her blood knife first, she must be the one who died.