I really like that if I work harder and harder, it is possible to

The words of Jin—“I really like that if I work harder and harder, it is possible to see and create new opportunities and even rewards in the future”—shine with the quiet radiance of a timeless truth. Within these simple lines lies the sacred law of effort and destiny, a truth known to sages and warriors alike: that labor is not merely toil, but the chisel by which the soul shapes its future. To work harder and harder is to enter a covenant with the unseen forces of life, to say to fate, “I will not wait for chance; I will forge my own fortune.”

The ancients spoke of this same principle under different names. In the East, it was called karma, the rhythm of cause and consequence; in the West, the philosophers named it virtus, the power of action that begets glory. Both understood that the future is not a gift but a creation—a sculpture carved by one’s sweat, discipline, and will. Jin’s words echo this ancient harmony: that by striving with diligence, the path ahead begins to yield its hidden doors, and where others see walls, the diligent one finds a gate.

Look to the story of Thomas Edison, who failed more than a thousand times before the light bulb was born. When asked how he endured such failure, he replied, “I did not fail a thousand times; I discovered a thousand ways that did not work.” What he understood—and what Jin reminds us of—is that every act of effort brings sight. The worker who persists begins to see what the idle cannot: opportunities hidden behind the veil of persistence, rewards awaiting the hand that will not tire. Edison’s success was not luck—it was the natural flowering of unwavering labor.

The same truth gleamed in the eyes of the farmer in ancient China who rose before dawn each day. His neighbors mocked him, for his land was barren and his back bent with years of effort. Yet he believed that hard work creates opportunity, even if the earth seemed silent. One season, after long years of perseverance, he uncovered beneath his field a rich layer of fertile soil that none had ever reached. From that soil grew harvests that sustained his entire village. What changed was not the land—but his willingness to dig deeper than others dared.

Jin’s wisdom reminds us that effort transforms vision. The one who labors daily begins to perceive connections invisible to the complacent. Hard work sharpens the senses, awakens the will, and gives the mind a clarity unknown to idleness. Those who toil learn to recognize opportunity not as luck’s gift but as life’s reward for persistence. The lazy wait for signs; the diligent become the sign.

Yet this teaching is not without pain. To work harder and harder is to walk through fatigue, doubt, and solitude. The spirit must burn with faith that though no reward is yet seen, the unseen world is already stirring in response. It is in those long, silent nights—when one’s efforts seem unnoticed—that destiny is quietly taking shape. The ancients would say: The gods test the worth of the dreamer by the endurance of his labor.

Let those who hear these words take this as their guide: do not fear hard work, for it is the womb of opportunity. Every hour given with sincerity is a seed cast into the soil of time. Water it with patience, nourish it with learning, and guard it with belief. When the storm comes—and it surely will—stand steadfast, for storms do not destroy seeds of perseverance; they awaken them.

Thus the lesson of Jin’s words is clear and eternal: to create the future, one must earn it. Each moment of effort builds an invisible bridge between today’s striving and tomorrow’s triumph. Work not for the promise of reward, but for the power to see what others cannot. For in that vision lies the greatest of gifts—not mere success, but the revelation that you yourself are the maker of your destiny.