Oh No, the Plagiarist Got Beheaded by the Emperor

“Chop off his head!”

In the palace hall, the emperor, a man in his forties, angrily pointed at the man below. The man wore fine robes and had a handsome face!

But now he was kneeling on the floor, pale and trembling all over, stammering, “Your Majesty, I really did write this!”

“You still dare say you wrote it?”

The emperor flung out his long sleeve and tossed a booklet in front of him. “Read it again, properly!”

The man picked up the booklet with shaking hands and opened it. There, in bold, flowing script, were three dazzling words: “Good, good, good!”

“Have you not seen the Yellow River’s waters descending from the sky, rushing to the sea, never to return?”

“Have you not seen the bright mirrors in the grand hall mourn white hair, black as silk at dawn, snow-white by dusk?”