"Feng Ji Liu, tell me, what is good and what is evil?" Yu Xian sat half-dead on the dirty hay, leaning his head weakly against the cold stone wall. With the corner of his phoenix eyes, he looked at Prime Minister Feng, who was dressed in white and snow-clad, and asked the words that had troubled him for half his life, "You? Me?"
The man didn't answer and was silent for a while, then slowly said, "There is no difference."
"..."
Yuxian closed his eyes. Yes, the doubts that had been trapped for half his life were relieved at this moment. He had no other thoughts, but it was a pity that it was too late.
As the blood overflowed from the corner of the mouth, it dripped onto the hay, mixed with the mud, and had long become one, dark, and bright red...
One day later, thousands of houses in the capital city were brightly lit, celebrating the restoration of the old city, reunited flesh and blood, firecrackers and cheers were heard endlessly, and the emperor climbed up to the Star-Zhaing Tower to rejoice with the people for three days.
In a unique courtyard, the owner was sitting at a small stone table drinking cold wine, his right hand holding his slightly confused forehead, drinking one cup after another. He didn't want to wake up, because he was afraid that he would not see the person he thought about day and night when he woke up, and he was even more afraid of facing the truth.
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In the eleventh year of Zhenzhi's reign, the prime minister became ill due to depression and had no choice but to resign and return to his hometown to recuperate. His student Sui Huai took over the post of prime minister on his behalf. He could be reinstated when his condition improved.
In the twelfth year of Zhenzhi, the prime minister passed away due to illness. The emperor was very sad and specially granted the title of Marquis Wenzhong. The whole country mourned for three months to respect the merits of the prime minister for the country.
Intention: None