I discovered something: when I was in school as a child, I fought with people, had feuds with them, mutual dislikes with others, and some people I even wanted to kill. The only person I truly wanted to kill was a teacher. During PE class, three of us were late returning from the bathroom, so he grabbed me out and beat me, made me kneel. I said when I grow up I'll definitely get revenge, and he said I'll hit you first, then slapped me repeatedly, I don't know how many times. Back then I thought, if I got cancer and was dying, I'd kill him before I went.

But as I got older, I let it all go. It's not just me—even those former "enemies" now greet each other or chat together when they meet. But that teacher, I won't talk to him, though I don't want revenge anymore either.

Now I just want to live my life well and try not to have conflicts with others. Looking back, it all seems pointless.

Regarding those "enemies" I wanted to revenge against, I understood a truth long ago: for many people, death is actually a relief, while living is prolonged torment. For example, is being shot more comfortable or sitting in prison until death? So him being alive is already the greatest punishment for him. But now I don't even think about these things anymore. Whether the other person is happy or unlucky has nothing to do with me. Everyone has only one brief life, and everyone has their own path to walk.