In the spring of March, green silk and catkins floated in the air. When Emperor Mu Qingchen was pressed to the guillotine, there were crowds of people below, sighing. I looked up at the bright sun and tried my best to squeeze out a smile on the throne.
The person on the guillotine has soft brilliance in his dark hair and pale skin. The placket on his chest is pulled to his shoulders, revealing a neck like mutton-fat white jade, which has a withered beauty. There were voices below, including men's voices and women's voices, including the executioner standing next to him.
The three nobles and nine ministers knelt down at my feet, most of them lowered their heads and glanced at me secretly. Prime Minister Bai Yizhi said from the side, "Your Majesty, we will be here at noon. Please give me your instructions."
I heard the delicate voices of two women in front of the crowd. The one on the left said, "This man is so handsome, and the new emperor is a woman, so I am willing to kill him." The one on the right chuckled twice, "It doesn't matter if you are beautiful, you will die under the butcher's knife. I heard that I have confused two generations of monarchs before."