On the night of the explosion, I met the "sudden death" of the seventh prince at a mass grave.
He was covered in blood, held my chin and said, "From now on, your life is mine."
I opened his hand and stuffed the homemade grenade into his arms:
"Your Highness, cooperation is fine, but you have to be clear—"
"I am choosing you, not you giving me alms."
Later, the artillery fire I built opened the gate of the imperial city.
He wore a yellow robe, but he tore up the draft edict in front of the court:
"My queen is calculating the balance of explosives in the laboratory."
The whole court was in an uproar.
And I put down the slide rule and sighed:
"How many times have I said it, but the reaction equation has not been balanced, so why get married?"
He was covered in blood, held my chin and said, "From now on, your life is mine."
I opened his hand and stuffed the homemade grenade into his arms:
"Your Highness, cooperation is fine, but you have to be clear—"
"I am choosing you, not you giving me alms."
Later, the artillery fire I built opened the gate of the imperial city.
The whole court was in an uproar.
