The Last Stroke of the Pen: Xu Wei's Ultimate Retribution

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the ancient city of Chang'an. Inside the dimly lit study, Xu Wei, the most renowned calligrapher of his time, stood before his desk. The inkstone was empty, the brush resting in its holder, and the paper untouched. The room was filled with the scent of aged parchment and the faint sound of a distant drum.

The years had not been kind to Xu Wei. Once the toast of the imperial court, now he was a recluse, his fame a distant memory. Yet, even in his solitude, the weight of his past actions bore down upon him. He had used his pen to betray, to manipulate, and to wield power. Now, as the end of his days drew near, he knew that his final act must be one of redemption.

Xu Wei's thoughts drifted back to the day he had first picked up the brush. It was a gift from the Emperor, a gesture of favor and recognition. Little did he know that the pen would become his weapon, his curse, and his salvation.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. It was his apprentice, Lin, a young man who had shown an extraordinary talent for calligraphy. Lin's eyes were filled with worry, and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Master Xu, you must come with me. The Emperor has summoned you."

Xu Wei's heart raced. The Emperor's call was never a pleasant one. "What does he want?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at him.

Lin hesitated. "He wants to see the new work you've been working on. It's said to be your masterpiece."

Xu Wei's eyes narrowed. "And what if it's not?"

Lin shook his head. "The Emperor has heard rumors of your final piece. He desires it above all else."

Xu Wei's mind raced. He had been working on a series of calligraphy that encapsulated his life's journey, his regrets, and his hopes for redemption. If the Emperor saw it, it could change everything. But what if it was too late?

The study door slammed shut, and Xu Wei's heart sank. It was the sound of the executioner's sword, the final stroke of his past. He had to act now.

Xu Wei turned to Lin. "Go to the Emperor and tell him that I am coming, but only if he promises to spare me the executioner's blade."

Lin nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. "I will, Master Xu. I will."

Xu Wei returned to his desk, his hand trembling as he dipped the brush into the inkstone. He began to write, his strokes flowing with the grace and power of a master. The words that emerged were a confession, a plea for forgiveness, and a promise to atone for his sins.

As he wrote, Xu Wei felt the weight of his past lifting from his shoulders. He knew that the Emperor would not be swayed by his words, but he had to try. He had to make his final stroke one of redemption.

The door opened again, and the Emperor stood there, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. "Xu Wei, what is this?" he demanded, his voice filled with anger.

Xu Wei did not look up. "Your Majesty, I have sinned against you and my kingdom. This is my atonement."

The Emperor approached the desk, his eyes scanning the parchment. He read the words, his face turning pale. "You... you have written your own execution?"

Xu Wei nodded. "I have. I wish to die with dignity, knowing that I have faced the consequences of my actions."

The Emperor's hand shook as he reached for the sword. "You have no right to choose this for yourself!"

But Xu Wei's hand was already reaching for the brush. He lifted it, and the tip of the brush touched the parchment. The ink flowed, and the last stroke of his life was drawn.

The Emperor's eyes widened in shock as the brush came to a halt. Xu Wei's hand fell to his side, his eyes closing. The last stroke of the pen was complete, and with it, his life ended.

The Emperor stood frozen, his sword hanging at his side. He looked down at the parchment, reading the final words that Xu Wei had written: "I forgive myself, and I hope you may forgive me too."

The study was silent, save for the distant drumming. Xu Wei's spirit had ascended, leaving behind a legacy of his pen's power and the weight of his redemption. The Emperor looked at the parchment, then at the body of the man who had once wielded such power, and he realized that perhaps it was not too late for him to seek his own atonement.

In the quiet of the study, Xu Wei's final stroke of the pen had become a symbol of hope, a testament to the power of redemption, and a final act of defiance against the march of time.