Offering Sacrifices to Sunflower

Story background It was an era when beauty and poison coexisted. Patterns of tangled shells and vines covered the walls, and satin woven with pastels and gold threads covered every body. Those extremely delicate curves resemble the tortuous desires deep in the human heart; those soft tones that are so hypocritical cover faces that are thinner than masks. The lights of the palace were kept burning all night long, burning every mirror into daylight. People dance, smile, and raise glasses in this light, as if the darkness never existed. But the brighter the lights, the deeper the abyss - there is a knife hidden behind every smiling face, and every time you turn around, you may step on a corpse. Behind the velvet curtain, silence is the sharpest language here. People chase power just like sunflowers chase the sun - they spend their entire lives chasing a direction that will never bow their heads. Greed is the oldest root here. It penetrates into the soil and entangles every stem that wants to stand upright, making people accustomed to kneeling and looking up, and accustomed to treating pain as faith. Justice is the scarcest light in this land - it cannot shine on the kneeling people, but only illuminates the night when one finally dares to pull out the roots. No one remembers when the first sunflower died...