She couldn’t quite remember how old they were back then—probably in their teens. One rare afternoon, the young master came to see her during the day, and they went hiking in the mountains together, planning to pick some wild herbs to make dumplings later.On the way down, they came across a wounded rabbit lying weakly in the grass, thin and pitiful. She desperately wanted to save it.But the young master had said, “Survival of the fittest is nature’s law. It’s so weak—even if we heal it, it’ll just end up as food for wolves or wild dogs.”She immediately shot back, “If that’s true, then why did you save me back then? I was weak too. Why didn’t you just let nature weed me out?”He had simply said, “That’s different.”“How is it different?” she had pressed. “If the world runs on the rule that the strong devour the weak, and the weak are destined to die, then wouldn’t someone like me be better off dead?”The young master had no response.She remembered being emotional that day, because s
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