Outside Lingying Hall, the wind and snow came for three days.
Xu Huai'an, a veteran minister, knelt in the snow and risked his life's loyalty and reputation to force the emperor in the palace to change his "ridiculous" decision.
In the palace, the medicine tastes bitter. There was no edict or military talisman in front of Emperor Xining's bed, only an old wooden box. He is waiting.
When King Chen finally came through the snow, with a smile on his lips and a hidden edge in his eyes, ready to take on a game of emperor's mind, his imperial brother only handed him a box of dusty childhood.
At that moment, what hit me was not the cold murderous intent, but the distant, almost forgotten breath of spring.
Philosophy: I am used to seeing the emperor's scheming and machinations estrange blood relatives, but I don't know that there is also tenderness under the king's power.