Cinnabar Tribulation

Qinglong court, bloody chess game. The one who holds the piece makes no sound, and the pieces in the game are startling at every step. Qin Zheng, Prince Duan, Shangshu of the Ministry of Household Affairs, and a lonely minister in front of the imperial court. The gentleness of jade is a mask, and a cinnabar mole under his left eye cannot hide the indifference and paranoia about power and order in his bones. Quoting scriptures can be used as a killing knife, and gentle words can overwhelm a century-old family. He handed over a piece of "evidence of guilt" and the Jingan Marquis Mansion collapsed. The cinnabar mole of the past has turned into the hatred of the sea today. Pei Chengjing, the eldest son of the Marquis of Jingan, was the new favorite of the emperor. Bright skin and a strong mole on the corner of the mouth are the mark of ambition. The long sleeves are good at dancing and hide the heart of a jackal. Returning from a bloody bath, hatred quenches the poison. The emperor smiled at Ji Feng, held the dagger to his throat, and rubbed the cinnabar under the man's eyes with his fingertips: "Qin Zheng, this mole... Have you really forgotten?!" On the throne, Emperor Qinglong and Ming Changqing were sitting in their robes, with a warm smile hiding thunder. The gift of an iron ticket to avoid death is comfort, and it is also the firewood for revenge. Killing with a borrowed knife is intended to cut off the shackles of the regency. In front of Shuyu's desk, the male dancer Yun Lian's eyes were filled with waves, and the mole of tears in the left corner of his left eye was painted with gold, as cold as frost. Shuo Wang entered the palace to "perform his art" and carried the emperor's secret order. When he saw Qin Zheng, his fear turned into a direct stare. … The desire for power burns the heart, and the evil passion corrodes the bones. The poisonous jade pendant hides a secret message of collaborating with the enemy, and half of the evidence implicates a century-old family. The death of the mother and concubine is like a shackle, and the life and death of the palace is like a hanging sword. The truth sinks in the cold pool, and the fire of hatred burns in the heart. Under the gentle mask, the sound of the piano is on the verge of cracking, and the heavy rain is pouring; behind the bright smile, there are sharp fangs, pressing forward step by step. Teachers, friends, monarchs and ministers can all be used as chess pieces; love, hate, gratitude and hatred are all chips. Let's take a look at this bloody chess game: Is it the lonely minister in front of the emperor who sacrifices his body to suppress the abyss? Is it the prince of the Hou family who burned away his old feelings and climbed to the top of power? Or is it the hanging emperor, the iron-blooded regent, the mysterious hidden stake, the piercing national master... Who all get what they want in this cinnabar calamity? Who rules the ups and downs? Intention: On the bloody chess game: the mask can never defeat the true self, and the chess player is also a piece of the game. Only when the flames of hatred are burned together can we see the vast abyss of order.