Because of Wu Ziyu’s precedent, all the lords kept silent about Fu Chai’s affairs. Wu Ziyu, a prime minister who had loyally served three generations of kings with merits greater than heaven, was brutally dismembered and thrown into the river when Fu Chai was angry. The ministers thought it was better not to risk their lives. Although death can be weightier than Mount Tai or lighter than a feather, there’s also a saying that a bad life is better than a good death.
No one dared to offer advice anymore.
The Mid-Autumn Festival arrived. Fu Chai wanted to appreciate the moon with his beloved Xi Shi. At this moment, Fu Chai was completely enchanted by Xi Shi, unwilling to leave her for even a moment. People in love feel that a day apart is like three autumns, but Fu Chai felt that a second without Xi Shi was like three centuries.
Fu Chai’s love for Xi Shi was deep. While lustful men often say “women are like clothes,” Fu Chai used to treat women as less than clothes. Now, he treated Xi Shi like his own heart.
Ten years passed, and Fu Chai’s love for Xi Shi remained constant – rare and as warm as spring, with a comrade-like respect. Not only did he provide for her material needs, but he also remained faithful, no longer touching other wives or engaging in philandering. Fu Chai was completely devoted to Xi Shi.
After dinner, Fu Chai held Xi Shi’s delicate hand and said softly: “My beauty, let’s go appreciate the moon at the Qin Terrace on Ling Yan Mountain.” Xi Shi lowered her eyes and softly replied: “Okay.”
Because Fu Chai loved and cherished her, he also couldn’t bear to see her harmed.
Xi Shi slowly stepped onto the smooth, shiny corridor floor, walking step by step. Suddenly, a “rumbling” sound came, as if thunder was about to strike. Xi Shi was surprised and stopped. Oh, it was just starry a moment ago, how could it start raining so suddenly? Xi Shi looked up and glanced at the sky; it wasn’t going to rain. The moon was round and large, smiling in the sky, and the stars were blinking.
