When I first saw you in the desert, you were dressed in blue and had black hair, lighting up the sky. You smiled sweetly, leaving all life in ruins, and your almond-shaped eyes were unblinking.
When I saw you again, you were holding a cinnabar imperial pen and sitting among the books. Only then did I know that you still had the world in mind.
In this battle, I will win your favor, and you will win my lifetime.
You are the prime minister of the dynasty and the leader of all officials, so you are used to smiling and plotting. How many people can see through your indifference beneath your gentleness and your loneliness beneath your brilliance?
From fighting wits with you to fighting wits with you, I get closer and closer, but I understand you less and less.
To consolidate the country for your friends, you work step by step, do your best, and bear the infamy. I don't know, is this considered gentle?
Use yourself as bait to stir up the world's war; use all people as sacrifices, just to unify the mountains and rivers. You did not hesitate and killed decisively. I don't know, is this cruel?
Maybe no one knows what you are thinking, or maybe you are such a contradictory existence. It wasn't until you left and I took up the burden you left behind that I realized that although you were smiling, your departure had been so difficult.
It doesn't matter, although you are a book that you can't read, I have a lifetime to read it carefully.