Zhao Ming sat alone in the imperial garden, sipping his favourite jasmine tea. His servants, including Eunuch Su, stood afar, their gazes lowered and their postures humbled.
Zhao Ming stared at nothingness, his heart drained of something he had no idea existed and filled with void.
He took the last sip and finished the tea, shifting his gaze to the empty cup and lifting the corner of his lips. He said nothing but went straight for the pot and then poured another cup.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched the cup fill with his favourite tea. Before he could cry another tear, something inside him said, "Treacherous people are not worth your tears."
