My Sin

Longing

The emperor did not know what Noble Lady Shu was thinking about or cared for that matter, all he thought about was how to kill her and make her pay her. So for the next few days, dreadful screams could be heard from the torture chamber, and only would the voice go silent to become faint would the sounds of torture also stop.

People became more terrified of the emperor and even the concubines were on their best behavior. It was like the emperor had completely shed from his former self. He was no longer the immature, cruel, and uncaring ruler, he had turned back to his calm, caring, and wise self, just like he was when he was the crown prince before he met Noble Lady Shu.

The people both within and outside of the palace could not help but wonder about the change, especially the hatred of Noble Lady Shu. People who didn't know a lot thought that the emperor had gotten tired of her and her cruel ways, but those who were more involved in politics thought it was deeper than that. 

Noble Lady Shu's cruel ways were not something new or well-hidden. It was extremely well known in the capital, yet it was as if the emperor had a silk mask around his eyes and couldn't see anything. He continued looking at her amorously, and dote on her. If the leader did not care about the problem, how could they, the subordinates point it out? 

So how could this indulgent emperor suddenly turn on his beloved? Something bigger must've happened. With these thoughts, the rumors about what could've happened were rampant, which of course reached the empress's ears.

His reaction? Unbothered. Yes, the emperor changed and regretted it, but it was a little too late. Right now all he was thinking about was how to interact with Hao Meng. Towards Hao Meng, he had complicated feelings. He couldn't distinguish what he was feeling, whether it was gratitude or romantic feelings. Hao Meng was coming today, and he could avoid him once, but avoiding every time wouldn't be an option.

The empress looked outside and saw the slightly swaying trees outside, their leave already orange. It was autumn, and today marked half a year since he was reborn. Most importantly he was over the emperor, and he might even like someone else.  The empress smiled slightly, the heart sure works in mysterious ways.

In contrast to the empress's good mood, the emperor sat alone in his chambers, the weight of silence pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. The usual hustle and bustle of the palace seemed muted as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of his next move. His eyes were fixed on the doorway, where countless times he had watched his empress enter with a grace that had always brought him comfort. But tonight, that doorway remained empty, a void that mirrored the emptiness in his heart.

As each hour passed without a word from the empress's palace, his anxiety grew stronger, like an unyielding storm. His chest tightened with a pain that felt like a vise squeezing his heart. The thought of losing her was unbearable—they had shared so much, built a life together where they could love and accompany each other, yet because of his weak self it all came crashing down.

"Why?" The question echoed in his mind, a desperate plea to the heavens for answers that never came. They had been blessed with a life that others envied, their bond forged through trials and triumphs. How could it all unravel over something as intangible as a curse, a mere whisper from a goddess and her greedy daughter?

Memories flooded his mind—the warmth of his smile, the gentleness of his touch, the quiet moments they had stolen away from the demands of the throne. Each memory intensified the ache in his chest, a longing for what once was and now seemed so distant. His eyes brimmed with tears as the weight of her absence bore down on him, an unbearable reminder of the joy he would never again hold.

How would he live if he lost the love of his life? The mere thought of losing her was a torment too excruciating to bear. His heart recoiled at the possibility, each beat a painful reminder of the love that anchored his very existence. Imagining a life devoid of his presence, his laughter, and the soft cadence of his voice was like staring into an abyss of endless despair. The world without him would be a cold, desolate place, with color and warmth, a haunting void where joy could no longer reside. The weight of such a loss would crush his spirit, leaving him a hollow shell, forever haunted by the ghost of what once was. The agony of his absence would be a relentless, gnawing ache, an unbearable void that no passage of time could ever hope to fill.

But the silence from the empress's palace showed his feelings. He no longer wanted to bother with this ill-fated love. The thought of the Empress's cold, unfeeling face suffocated him as if the very air around him had turned to stone.

Rising from his desk, he gasped for air, each breath a desperate struggle against the suffocating weight of guilt and sorrow that squeezed his chest. His heart pounded in his ears, each beat a painful reminder of his failings. He felt he deserved this agony, this relentless torment. If only he had been a little stronger, just a little more resolute, perhaps he could have held onto the precious threads of his life. He could have kept his wife by his side, his children in his arms, his family whole. But his weakness had cost him everything.

Succumbing to his despair, the emperor slumped to the floor, his regal composure crumbling in an instant. His body shook with uncontrollable sobs, the sound of a raw, heartwrenching cry that pierced the silence of the palace. His hands clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his robes as if trying to hold together the fragments of his shattered heart. The eunuchs outside, hearing the heart-rending sobs, exchanged shocked glances. How could an emperor sound so...broken?

Inside, tears streamed down the emperor's face, cutting through the grime and sweat of sleepless nights. His eyes, once fierce and commanding, were now red and swollen, filled with deep sadness. His cheeks were flushed, his lips quivering as he gasped for breath between sobs.

His once proud shoulders, which had borne the weight of an entire empire, now sagged under the crushing burden of the loss of his loved ones. His sobs grew louder, more desperate, echoing off the marble floors and grand walls of the palace, now stark and empty. The sound was a lament for what could never be reclaimed, a mournful cry that echoed with the agony of a man who had lost everything he held dear.

At that moment, the emperor was no longer a figure of power and authority, the man who rules an empire, but a man broken by his own failures, his spirit laid bare in his sorrow. The grand palace, with all its splendor, could not mask the depth of his despair. His sobs were a haunting reminder of the fragility of even the greatest among men and the unbearable pain of a heart lost to the shadows of regret and longing.

Question(s) of the day

After taking an advanced English class, I've been experimenting with new writing styles, so I just wanted some feedback. So have you guys noticed any improvement in vocab? Does it make sense? More emotional? Please let me know!