He rode unhurriedly and rode all night before returning to the royal capital. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

His faithful men waited for him all night at the gates, for he had told him not to let anyone come with him.

The ministers stood respectfully to welcome him back, but he didn't even look at it, and returned to his mansion with an indifferent face.

At that time, he had already been crowned the crown prince, but he did not go to the East Palace, but returned to his original mansion.

He looked at his mansion, not knowing what the feeling was in his heart at this moment.

He had thought that if one day he won the throne of the East Palace, he would return to this mansion and shout loudly that he had become the crown prince. But that day, he was drunk.

He drank a lot of wine, alone, against his mansion.

The battle for the throne has never been a beautiful story.

It is a nightmare controlled by the devil.

It intimidates the people, but makes them endlessly addicted to it, and finally they fall into it, unable to extricate themselves, and finally walk in pain.

He knew from the beginning that if he embarked on this path, he would never look back.

But he didn't have a choice.

If he doesn't come in, he'll die at the hands of someone else.

All the while, he just wanted to live, nothing more.

So he walked in without hesitation, and it felt like he was going to die.

Obviously trying to survive, in the end, he found himself getting closer and closer to death.

In other words, this feeling is like death.

He was disgusted by this feeling, but he still tirelessly wandered on this road, as if he was enjoying it.

But only in the deepest and darkest nights did he know how painful and disgusting he was.

However, it felt like a dream.

He felt that all the thoughts in the dark night should be dreams.

And when the dawn of dawn is once again cast on this land full of desire and vitality, that dream will be evaporated by the sun, leaving no trace, as if it never existed.

He also felt that he had not come, because only then could he continue to lift the blood-stained sword and continue to run forward, and then stain the sword with fresh blood.

Days like this make him sick.

But there was no way, he had to keep walking, as far as he could.

He has to always walk ahead of others so that he will not be trampled underfoot.

So he could stay up all nights just to copy a book that his father liked.

When he saw the smile on his father's face, his heart was comforted.

He will feel that he is safe and that he will not be abandoned.

Sleepless nights, just looking for a little bit of security, he would have felt ridiculous when he thought about it, but he cried.

The night is a good camouflage garment, no matter who you are, you want to put on the dark robe, you can wander freely in this boundless darkness, you can put your fear, your joy, your anxiety, and your pride all the way out, without worrying about the burning eyes of others.

No one here will look at it, so you can vent your resentment, vent your dissatisfaction.

You can lash out at someone you hate.

You can take a sharp dagger and slash the person you hate the most to death.

You can chop off a slice of his flesh, then grab a handful of salty salt, and sprinkle it lightly and comfortably on his bloody wound, listen to his hideous scream, and admire his vicious eyes with pain, which you will feel more refreshing than smoking a large cigarette made of poppies.

Every time you cut a piece of meat, your heart feels a little lighter, and maybe the taste of heaven is just that.

There is no need to go to heaven after death, this is heaven now.

That kind of pleasure is really mesmerizing and maddening.

What he likes most is not to be flattered by the crowd and to be called virtuous and moral by the ignorant people.

What he liked most was to cut the wounds of the people he hated over and over again in the dark night when he couldn't see his fingers, and then count their scars over and over again, and then enjoy their hateful eyes.

In the long run, it's like being enchanted.

Every time he picked up the bronze mirror carved by the Seven Treasures to peek at his face, he always felt that it was not himself in the mirror.

I've heard before that if the gods have evil thoughts, they will give birth to demons

However, what about people?

With such a look, is it also a demon?

He always felt that people in this world were the most evil.

Their wickedness even prevails over demons.

Demons are bound by the catastrophe, once they do something bad, then the catastrophe will follow, so most demons dare not do bad things.

The demon is trapped in the Nine Shadows, and the mana of ordinary demons is not so profound, so it is impossible to escape from the Nine Shadows, and it is impossible to bring disaster to the world.

But man is different from them.

There are no bondage to man.

In this world, God can be said to have ceased to exist.

After the fall of the Celestials, the gods were like illusory.

So there's almost nothing left to bind them.

So compared to demons, talents are the most evil.

They are unrestrained, they do whatever they want, and they kill when they want.

As long as you can stand on the high ground of power, then there will be many people who will bow down to you.

You want to kill someone like you want to kill an ant.

The temptation of power is more than beauty.

That's something that no beauty can replace.

Many people can endure not being close to women all their lives, but they can't bear to succumb to others all their lives.

Who in this world doesn't want to see someone on their knees at your feet?

From time immemorial to the present day, that longing has never gone away.

It's an honor to be able to show others how powerful you are without talking.

It's maddening.

People flock to it.

There are always very few good things, but the people who pursue them are numerous, dense, and countless.

However, it is well known that there are many competitors, but there is no stopping moment.

Because once successful, those rewards are extremely tempting.

No one will refuse rights, just as no one will throw away money.

Those things are dangerous, but people never regret them.

People are so dirty.

So sometimes when he looked at the people in the court, it was like looking at a group of maggots wriggling in the pit.

They eat the most disgusting things, and they are still tenaciously alive.

How ironic, how ridiculous, and how heroic.

He knew he was just as disgusting as they were.

But he was even more disgusting.

He had to pretend to be with them very much, and sail a boat to make a way out.