Lin Qi was not a harsh man, at least not when it came to his own people.
Little Maid, Little Maid, Penny, and the many other women he had slept with, as well as his colleagues at work and friends in life.
Lin Qi had never been stingy with his generosity and affection. Even when he was sometimes offended, he would not make too much of it.
To live with clarity and satisfaction, one had to understand what to hold on to and what to let go.
Experts in the art of success had interpreted that principle in countless ways. Some were wrong, while others were not necessarily wrong.
But the choice of what to keep and what to give up was always worth considering.
If you wanted everyone to revere you, you had to give up friendship, family affection, and other kinds of "feelings," keeping everyone at a distance.
Only as a "solitary ruler," surrounded by distance and estrangement, could respect give rise to "awe."
Because people could not figure out what you were thinking, they would not dare offend you lightly, afraid that one careless sentence would bring terrible losses.
That was the "fear" gained by cutting off communication through estrangement. It was also why kings were always lonely.
They could not let people get too close. People would discover that they were no different from ordinary people, and then they would no longer fear them—or the power in their hands.
Only by maintaining distance could one inspire awe. That was also why so many emperors placed their trust in sycophants.
They were lonely too, and yearned for conversation. The sycophants filled that void.
Incompetence, debauchery, and trust in sycophants...
Lin Qi was not a king, nor did he need anyone to fear him. But that did not