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The Victim

"I've never cared for you." Yu Zhen stood by the bedside of the dying Emperor with words as sharp as knives. Maybe that way, the man would go faster. Maybe then, he would not feel this ache in his heart. 

The Emperor used to be tall and strong. A smack from him would send a boy flying to the floor. His breath was the snort of a dragon, and his roar of anger was like a trailblazing fire. 

What exactly happened?

Who was this imposter on the bed? Thin and bones, the man was dressed in the same luxury and wealth as the Emperor. But this was not the Emperor. Yu Zhen refused to believe it. He refused to open his eyes to the truth that the man who once tormented his childhood was reduced to nothing.

"I…know," the Emperor breathed out. He opened his tired eyes, rimmed with wrinkles and darkness. His pale blue lips spread into a slight smile. 

"Seeing me…in pain…" he heaved. "Must bring you joy."

"Immensely." 

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