She cut off his power, slapped him in the face, granted him a marriage, and tied up his too-sharp knife with "the kindness of the late emperor". From a jealous young prince who had a clear distinction between love and hate, he was broken by her own hands and tempered into a silent dark blade - no longer shining, but able to eliminate political opponents for her that she could not move. During the Spring Festival fire, the mutiny in the north, and the palace rebellion on a rainy night, he put himself on the line again and again to make her feel at ease. They have been monarchs and ministers for half of their lives, separated by curtains for half of their lives, no one can tell. In late spring, when the begonias were all gone, they sat for a long time across the curtain - the tea was cooled and replenished, and replenished and cooled again.
Intention: She uses kindness as a shackles, and he uses forbearance as a guard. Beneath the machinations, deep in the undercurrent, is a deep love that has never been expressed but never wavered. The knife can be folded and the blade can be hidden, but this heart will not change.