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Published January 1, 2023
He hugged her tightly, his voice deep and hoarse. “No matter what identity you have when you’re with me, it’s always open and honorable.”
Fan Changyu said, “What I’m looking for is the confidence to walk alongside you forever. This confidence doesn’t come from how deep your feelings are for me, but from myself. Even a powerful eagle can’t carry another eagle while flying, right?”
— them ˙⊹ Fan Changyu had only meant to tease him, but hearing him speak of himself this way caused her heart to ache once more.
How could she not know what kind of man he was? She leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek and said, “Then let’s be bound together. They say good people don’t live long—if you’re a bad person, perhaps that will make me happier.”
“Don’t you believe I can stop them?”
Xie Zheng forcefully pulled her into his embrace, “If you can’t stop them, then don’t. Just come back to me alive.”
She looked up at him, “Those aren’t the words you should be saying to a general.”
“You are a general to thousands of people, but you are also my wife. I’m instructing my wife.”
— fan changyu ˙⊹ Even if it meant breaking her bones, she would crawl, step by step, towards that truth.
In matters of the heart, she seemed cautious, considering everything before giving her heart away. But once she truly gave her heart, she didn’t care at all about worldly etiquette. She had given him her most sincere and passionate self, and he couldn’t help but cherish her for it.
— xie zheng ˙⊹ “After meeting you, I stopped thinking about dying on the battlefield. How could I die?”
Even if he died, he hoped she would live well. He couldn’t bear to part with her. She was the only sun he had ever embraced in his life. But he hated becoming someone like his mother, so he hoped for her happiness. As long as she spread her light and warmth in the world, he wouldn’t feel cold in hell.
— side characters ˙⊹




Oamenii timpului lor acționează în funcție de circumstanțele timpului lor. Generațiile viitoare să judece corectitudinea și greșeala, meritele și defectele.
Învingătorul este rege, învinsul, un bandit. Din moment ce m-ai învins, mă îndoiesc că ai venit astăzi doar ca să vezi cum mă descurc.
Wei Yan stătea întins în paie, privind fulgii de zăpadă cum se împleteau prin lumina slabă, prea curată pentru un loc ca acesta.
A închis ochii.
Calea lui de retragere fusese pecetluită cu șaptesprezece ani în urmă.
Chiar dacă istoria l-ar detesta, chiar dacă ar merita lingchi (moarte cu o mie de tăieturi), numai el ar suporta-o.
Acea persoană, pură ca zăpada de primăvară, ar trebui să plece nepătată, fără a lăsa nicio urmă rușinoasă în analele istoriei.
Am auzit o zicală: «Legea nu pedepsește masele». Asta înseamnă că atunci când mulți oameni încalcă legea, autoritățile nu îi vor pedepsi pe toți. Acum, întregul oraș se teme de soarta mea de «Stea nefericită» și bârfește pe la spatele meu. Pot să dau o lecție unei singure persoane, dar pot să dau o lecție întregului oraș?