Shadows of the Blaze Cover the Sky

The world was originally white;

Different colors give it different kinds of justice;

Take Qin, for example, whose dark waters engulfed the Seven Kingdoms;

Or Han, whose crimson heroes swept across the Western Regions;

Or Tang, whose golden phoenix drew nations from across the world to pay homage;

Or Ming, whose steadfast red spirit held sway over the Central Plains;

Five thousand years is too short.

As time goes on,

when colors have become dazzlingly diverse, justice in the world naturally grows hopelessly muddied.

An age of chaos comes again.

The more heroes there are, the more grandiose the slogans become, and the more paradoxes arise between “justice” and “fairness.”

Does one plus one equal two, or does it not?

People always like to make simple things complicated.

Perhaps all one can do is drift with the tide,

watching an unbreakable game and an unchanging heaven,

becoming a fresh streak of green amid the muddled colors, heedless of what lies behind, and returning to the pitch-black chaos?

Or perhaps...

The color of heaven cannot be changed,

but with the plainest, most unadorned fire, before the floodwaters sweep across the sky, let a blood-red rose

veil the murky heavens!

In times of chaos, there never seem to be too few fools, but the ones who get things done are always madmen.

You say I've gone mad?

But if you are the only sane person in the world,

then,

who is the one who's mad?

As long as the result is right,

does it matter

whether that sky

is black

or red?

I say,

I want you all to hear it.

The children of later generations will praise

that “red glow” on the horizon

as beautiful.

P.S. Every person born in the 2000s has their own Three Kingdoms. Reading other people's books gave me countless inspirations, and I kept going back and forth over what to keep and what to discard. I've had enough fun, and I'm thoroughly sick of it; now, remember to remind me: this is the only book I want to write, a story that belongs to me alone.