The night was deep, dispersing into the flickering firelights of the High Priest's Mansion; layers of clouds concealed the flawless, bright full moon. Shadows fell from the ceiling of the sleeping chamber, enveloping the restless young king. This night was exceptionally long, filled with silent contemplation.
Nashu quietly guarded the corner without any disturbance. She patiently accompanied the sleepless His Highness like a shadow.
Until the Morning Star rose, a faint light emerged from the East, and Xiulote sighed softly. A straightforward poem surged to his heart and inexplicably escaped his lips.
"Taizong raised righteous troops eighteen times, the white banner and yellow axe pacified the two capitals. Captured and slain Dou, the world became clear, Twenty-four accomplishments completed. Ascended the throne at twenty-nine, achieved peace at thirty-five..."
