"Am I a fool?" King Jing’s crown prince looked into Fan Xian’s eyes seriously. "Please tell me that I am a fool."
Fan Xian did as he pleased and told him with a sincere tone of voice, "In some ways, I think you really are a fool."
What Li Hongcheng asked was spoken when Fan Xian had his fingertip pointed to the sky, and that which Fan Xian responded to was his battle for authority with the princes.
King Jing’s manor’s lawns were finely cut, but as tidy as they were, they lacked a certain elegance. The lawn was slightly yellowed and almost looked like a carpet, spread out to skirt the paths with care. Fan Xian knew it was King Jing’s own hard work that shaped the lawns in the way they were; through his adoration for gardening, he worked on them each and every day. He pointed towards the grass field and said, "Look, this is life."
