Dwelling in the Ashes

(Imaginary ancient background, has nothing to do with reality) The snow at Yanmen Pass fell three thousand miles away, and the blood in Chang'an City stained the twelve gates. He was the emperor who was seriously ill with suspicion, he was the prime minister who knelt down until his forehead was cleft, he was the general who was tortured, he was the lieutenant who died humming a song, he was the censor who smashed the jade tablet, and he was the secret guard who survived to the end. They once drank a glass of wine together and guarded a city together. Later—— The person who was most afraid of pain was cut into pieces by a thousand cuts without saying a word. The person who wanted to live the most died before dawn, before eating the soup dumplings. The proudest people had their forehead bones broken and were thrown into mass graves. The person who wanted to be reunited the most lived for a full hundred years and put out three drawers of cold crabmeal soup dumplings every day. The most honorable person knelt on the gold brick to pray to his ancestors, and the dragon robe rubbed off the paint on the tablet. The most sincere person never knew until his death that the imperial court had never sent a single soldier. The last one who survived opened a tea stall in the West Market. Every spring I look after the flowers at thirty-seven graves, and when I see the plum blossoms blooming like blood dots. He straightened his new chopsticks again and said to the empty Chang'an: "Now, I'm older than you all."