I don't feel much about the recent wildly popular story of the cousin, but I deeply resonate with this comment.

You never met your cousin, nor heard his words. As the family's only direct heir, he spent his life alone, started countless ventures, knowing there was no one behind him, bearing the heavy responsibility of the family on his own, bringing honor to the family name. Yet, fate dealt him a cruel hand, and he fell in the end. Heroes are as common as fish crossing the river, life is vast and fleeting, nothing more. But he never expected that after his death, his closest relatives would label him with an epitaph of "aiming too high, all talk and no substance." How tragic that is. They never considered what role they played in his life. Human nature is often like this: when you most need help, you are surrounded by bystanders making sarcastic remarks; but when you reach the top, you are surrounded by praise. Is it possible that he wasn't defeated by failure, but was actually beaten down by your cynicism? Life is vast and fleeting, nothing more; history is written by the victors.

I think that before you succeed, nothing you do is worth telling others about. If you don't make it, you're just a gambler, a debtor with bloodshot eyes, a loser condemned by all.

But if you do make it, I still don't think it's worth anyone's praise, because only you know what it's like to climb out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood—others will simply say you got lucky and got rich in a few years.

Miracles born out of extreme, tiny probabilities don't apply to most people, but everyone still wants to be that miracle.

Looking back, I have to say these past few years have truly been remarkable.