Seven steps is the distance between the sword and the sword in front of the palace, and it is also the last space he left for me.
Three years ago, I personally charged him with treason. I watched his white clothes stained with blood and turned around and disappeared into the snow on the border. Everyone said that Prince Regent Rong Heng died unjustly, but I was the only one who knew that the secret decree granting death was burned in my tears.
Three years later, the new emperor was jealous and the court was divided, and I was forced into a desperate situation. And he returned as an envoy from a neighboring country, and his iron cavalry crushed the prosperity of the imperial capital.
Above the court, he looked down at me kneeling on the ground. Seven steps, no more, no less, was the distance between us when he blocked the sword for me.
"Prime Minister Lin," his voice was as cold as the snow in the north, "you owe me what you owe me. It's time to pay back."
He forced me to give in step by step, took away my authority, and trapped me in a small space. But when I was plotted by a political enemy and was on the verge of death, it was he who, with red eyes, personally tasted the medicine for me.
"Rong Heng," I grabbed his sleeve, just like the young man who trusted him back then, "I never sent that secret edict."
He froze, and finally said the words he had hidden in his heart for three years: "But what I hate is not the secret decree, but that you never believed in me."
The palace is deep and powerful, and the strategy is like chess. We thought we were out of each other's situation long ago, but we forgot that within seven steps, there is a fatal distance for assassins and a distance for guardians to protect each other.
This time, is it going to be a military encounter or a reunion?
Seven steps away is the world, within seven steps there is only you.
Intention: Trust is a more difficult chess game than intrigue - within seven moves, only with the heart as the sheath can we reunite.
