"If you compare yourself with Fu Bing, you are indeed a loser. Compared with yourself, you are successful. At least you're attempting to change, in your own self-righteous way."
"Self-righteous?" Han Hu let out a bitter laugh.
"Do you think you're the most miserable?"
Han Hu's lips moved, but she couldn't answer.
"Instead of wasting your time on self-pity, you should think about how to make yourself more valuable. Xiaobing can save your body, but she can't save your soul; only you can make your soul resilient. Among the wrongful dead, there's no shortage of tragic backgrounds and unjust experiences; your plight is insignificant compared to theirs."
"So I don't even qualify to be among the wrongful dead?"
"Since when has joining the wrongful dead become someone's second choice?" Wu Shi said coldly.
To become one of those who crawled out of hell, forever teetering on the brink of life and death—is that so easily achieved?
