This is a retrospective written with the slave's eyes as the pen and time as the note——
The winter snow of the 13th year of Guangping fell on the bluestone slabs of Yonghe Street in the suburbs of Beijing, and it also fell on the turning point of my life. The hand that Miss He Yuehui stretched out to me in the cold mist was not only a salvation, but also the anchor of my life for decades to come. As a slave, I will be the witness and recorder of her life: watching her step by step from a lady in a noble house, to stepping onto the phoenix chair, to becoming the empress of the world, and finally to the empress dowager who holds the phoenix seal and wields power over the whole country.
In the turbulent palace chess game, she is a tenacious and cold chess player. She and the far-sighted young emperor Qi Suzhao, from court games to soul-to-soul understanding, in the whirlpool of power with swords and swords, join hands to pave the way for a legend that will determine the world. Hidden in the hazy petals of the begonia under the moon were her heartbeat when she saw the stars in his eyes; and that first glimpse of her that night had already turned into a life-long affection and conspiracy over the years.
As I grow old, I turn over the yellowed records with flickering candlelight. The past about power, love, betrayal and loyalty still flow between the lines like the fragrance of crabapple flowers - this is an epic engraved by a woman in the torrent of the times. It is also a deep love that an emperor and his wife persevere in the deep palace of power. It is also an eternal footnote of loyalty and admiration left by a slave with his life as ink for future generations.
