The candlelight flickered, and the man's pale side face was reflected in the bronze mirror, a face as beautiful as a woman, but it was lifeless.

The man skimmed himself in the glasses, a sarcastic smile rose at the corner of his lips, put his left index finger between the fingers in his mouth, and bit down, blood oozed from the pale fingertips, red and dazzling. The man lowered his eyes, hung his fingers on the white silk spread on the table, groaned slightly, and wrote on the white silk with paper.

"The bright moon closes the Zhu Pavilion, and the fireflies lock the heavy building.

King Chen was drunk and withered orchid, and the queen regretted the withered bamboo.

Drag the shirt bowed his head and smiled, and looked at the drama lightly.

The mottled world is cold, and the land is away from the country and the country is new. ”

The blood fainted slightly on the silk, and the handwriting was still clear, elegant and free, uninhibited with pride, strong and elegant, as if it came from the hands of such a dying person.

"A gentleman loves a mouth, a peacock loves a feather, and a tiger and a leopard love a claw. I don't know what I have to cherish?" The man looked at his fingers that were still bleeding, his eyes seemed to be a little confused, and his eyes were far away and empty.

......

Once, just for fun, simply because he was unwilling to spend his life peacefully, and simply wanted to leave a strong mark in history, he laid out a completely different life for himself.

Time, fate, and luck. Unpredictable, unscrupulous.

He understood, but he was reluctant to go through his life in a stable way, so he gambled everything he had and opened this chess game.

But when it comes to the endgame, looking back on this long game, it is too tiring and tiring. He was tired and realized that obscurity in history might be his proper destination.

Therefore, he used a blood song to laugh at his life, and wrote the days he lived on this white silk casually, which was rare and did not follow the rules. There was no long brewing, no gorgeous mounting, no lingering feelings, only the sigh of mockery at the corners of his lips.

Probably, no one will see this poem, right? The deceased is gone, and the living are ignored. Maybe it won't take a hundred years, and all the traces of my life will be completely erased in the memory of future generations. Own Death ...... There is no white silk full of halls, no funeral songs, and no annual memorials. This is the ending that I was most afraid of, right?

How tiring would it be to divide a person's soul into two halves, walk on a straight line with different destinies, treat every choice in life as a chess game, and then peek into people's hearts for this?

......

The man's eyes turned to the chessboard beside him, suddenly smiled, got up and floated out of the door, muttering in his mouth, as if talking to himself, and as if confused: "Go has no endgame, but there is a human heart, is it that I think the chess game is too simple?" The light and fluttering voice was blown away in the breeze, just like the long-term obsession in his heart, after putting it down, it was scattered with a light blow.