In March, willow branches hung soft as threads; cuckoos cried, and I sighed-my body had already been hollowed out.
Zi Shou discovered that being a foolish ruler was physically demanding work.
Skipping morning court let him sleep in, but it easily left his back aching. His two favorite consorts, in particular-one a fox demon, the other a heavenly immortal-left him even more exhausted.
Luckily, he was exceptionally gifted, born with the divine strength to hold up a beam and replace a pillar, and had also popped elixirs from the system. An ordinary mortal in his place would never have broken through their defenses.
The great black rooster he kept in the palace specifically for cockfighting, Dahei, the Lord of Chaoge, was already the father of several chicks. He really had no idea where a mere rooster got so much energy and passion. Fortunately, Hu Ximei was still in the Poultry House; otherwise, whether he lived or died would be anyone's guess.
Zi Shou also knew that young men should exercise restraint, lest they shed futile tears later in life. But he had to be a foolish ruler. If he wasn't, forget shedding futile tears-there would be no later life at all. In another twenty-odd years, he would be burned to ashes.
He had attended court yesterday, so he would skip it today. He barely managed to get up and, with Daji's help, changed his clothes. As usual, he watched cockfights and played ball, but he would pass on the opera for now. Listening to Mai Yun Stabs King Zhou over and over was getting tiresome. He would have people write some new scripts first.
Of those three activities, Chinese opera had spread the fastest. Apparently, a musician with quite a reputation among the common people had arrived at the Hall