I like playing computer games-History of the Three Kingdoms. It allows you to play a monarch in troubled times, constantly recruiting and expanding your power until the Central Plains is unified. Of course, during this period, swords and shadows and wanton killing are inevitable. Yes, teenagers always dream. When you finally "revived the Han Dynasty" under the command of Liu Bei's weak army, your carefree feelings were beyond words-no, not only because you dominated the world, but more importantly-you changed history.

Seeing that one enemy has been wiped out, I often wonder: If this is a reality, will I make a big difference, make trouble everywhere, and bleed like a river? A friend joked, "If I can't be immortal, I'd rather be immortal, because it at least left a trace in history."

I don't understand. So I dug up a book of world history in the depths of the bookshelf and blew off the dust on the cover.

I leafed through these books. Let's get started: One of the "Seven Wonders"-the glorious Temple of Alsi was burned down. Arsonists just want their names to go down in history and be handed down to future generations. The court ordered; It is forbidden to spread his name. Of course, this is also a trace.

Rejected, Persia invaded Palestine; The killing of Greek States; Roman empire expansion; The descendants of Genghis Khan traveled all over the east bank of the Danube; The crusaders' sabers point east. ...

Don't look any more. I know exactly what happened after that: besides war, it was still war.

One clan kills another clan; One man killed another man.

Can you calm down?

What about before? Homer's immortal epic still records wars and killings.

Even in the Old Testament, the merciful God killed the Egyptian's eldest son before Moses left Egypt.

This is history.

This is history?

It's late at night, under the dark sky, there are still some people with me: Gandhi and romain rolland ... I also know that Einstein signed an anti-war "letter to Europeans"-although only four people signed it.

As long as these human souls exist, I will not despair. And-I seem to see a white-haired old man slowly falling down, falling down, at the venue of a peaceful assembly. I saw tears in his eyes.

The old man's name is Rabin.

I'd rather be unknown-if I want to trade other people's lives for my own glory. I would rather live and die, like a weed, and no one knows whether I am alive or dead.

Yes, I'd love to.