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“Well, there you have it,” Asmidul said with a gentle smile. “An ordinary person wouldn’t be able to express their thoughts in such a way; it takes talent, and that talent is reinforced by worldly wisdom! It only seems that writers, empresses, and kings are somewhere far away, lost in their own otherworldly thoughts and problems. I believe that true talent isn’t about describing a topic in the most complex way possible, but about telling one’s story so vividly and sincerely that even a stranger can understand and empathize. And this applies not only to writing, don’t think I’m trying to persuade you; it applies to any form of creativity.” He brushed a speck of dust off his glasses and continued, “And thank you for the advice, but allow me to return the favor: don’t turn yourself into an empty shell of the past. Who knows, maybe the empress and the king also had a ‘sore spot’ that they never managed to heal? Whether it’s a mental or physical trauma, the essence remains the same. If you’re fixated on negativity and don’t even allow yourself to think about the possibility of joy, is such an existence worth all the power, all the divinity? So, that’s what I’m thinking about regarding my future, but don’t write yourself off prematurely! As long as a person is alive, their stories live on, and I would gladly listen to more of yours.”