Your Playful Words

I once stood in a lofty pavilion, longing for your return. How is it that the city now lies empty, and the one I knew has gone? I gather a wisp of snow-white longing and send it far north, to the flames of war. Across the ground, pear blossoms lie scattered, lingering thoughts beneath the red candles and embroidered curtains. So I shall bury a lifetime in this mortal world, quietly paint my face, and watch the pear blossoms drift and swirl. Clad in white, I have wandered through a thousand years. Yesterday, the king was laid in the yellow earth; today, this lowly concubine has turned to white bones.

I was but an actor, with no heart for love. Why, then, has this life cast me into the dust of the world?

Or perhaps, in this life and this age, we will pledge ourselves to each other beneath a pear tree.

Some plays, the longer you perform them, the more deeply you enter the role. Some affections, the longer you pretend, the more real they become.

This is the story of an actor who seeks revenge, only to fall in love with the son of their enemy.