At midnight, the castle was silent as the grave. Animals nearby were unusually quiet, as if they sensed something brewing nearby. Suddenly, dozens of figures swept out of the woods towards the castle, leading by a stunning red-haired lady. She peeked behind doors and signalled them to move on whenever it was safe to go.. Then, all people followed her to pass through criss-crossed passages into the castle. Soon, they made it to a ballroom at the castle’s core. Right after she pushed the door in, startling the crowd to scream.
        “You, you’re the slaves of the castle. Are you trying to rebel against us...Guards! Get these intruders!” The minister called out for help when he saw Rococo and the rebels, but strangely no one ever showed up.
        “We’ve taken down the soldier. You have nowhere to escape!” Rococo said as she pointed her weapon at the minister. “You’re nothing but slaves! How dare you——” the furious minister said.
        “Pay for the murders you’ve committed against the slaves!” roared the slaves. Realising the raging situation, the minister tried to escape. Yet he was tripped by someone. He looked up and saw the landlord.
        “We have gathered the evidence of your evil doings! There is no more escape for you! You know how much I hate misery. And this time I’ll rewrite it myself,” the landlord said. Watching the landlord from behind, Rococo knew that he had grown up. After everything they had been through, he wasn’t that ignorant child in the past anymore.
        In addition to Rococo’s efforts, the landlord had also gathered a group of loyal officials, working in coordination to wipe out the minister and his lackeys once and for all. Eventually they were all imprisoned. Things were done and dusted. Few days later in the afternoon, the landlord had a meeting with the slaves to collect their opinions.
        “Master, please enslave the minister and his family until death! Let him know how we’ve been suffering!”
        “Master, let those abused slaves see how he ended up in!”
        “Master, I suggest putting him in the water torture. Immediate death is too lenient with him.” Everyone was wrathful, requesting a supreme penalty towards the minister. Sitting on the throne, the landlord had a flicker of hesitance on his face. He understood the minster deserved to be burnt in hell, but something just seemed wrong, so he sought Rococo for help.
        “Rococo, the vevolt is a success all thanks to you. Do you have any advice?”
        “I hate the minister like everyone else here. I can’t wait to rip him off. But just think for a second...what do we need most now?” Everyone was looking at each other in puzzlement.
        “We just finished a revolution. Without doubt, it will adversely affect our city to a certain extent. If we keep on like this, the situation will soon escalate into chaos. So we need to establish a new order as soon as possible.” She continued, “and how we deal with the minister is the most effective way to show what kind of image we portray in people’s mind.”
        “So how can we do it right?” asked the landlord.
        “The top priority is to reform the city order. Let’s elect candidates we deem fit to form a tribunal, formulate basic legislations and execute the laws. The minister will be the very first person on trial, and this case is critical to the prestige of the order. We need to treat it carefully.”
        Rococo had also thought about the future of this city while she was planning the uprising. Overthrowing the minister was just a phase. She had been pondering over the road ahead all this time.
        “Rococo is right. Only a fair and just trial can secure the right and welfare of our people. I hope we can make the city a better place for them,” the landlord nodded. Despite some of the arguments, everyone eventually reached a common consensus that Rococo’s suggestion was the most feasible. Considering the merit she had in this revolution, Rococo was elected as the member of the tribunal, but she refused bluntly.
        “I appreciate your trust in me. But I have something more important to do.” Rococo finally felt relieved, and had never been such relaxed before. “I’m going home. My family is waiting for me. This is where I belong to,” she smiled.
        “Will you come back? I...miss your wonderful stories.” The landlord hoped she would, but Rococo rejected.
        “No. You’re not a story listener anymore, but the writer. Everyone is counting on you.” Then, she touched his hair gently and said, “perhaps one day we’ll meet again somewhere. By that time, I’ll be your listener. And you need to tell me a happy story about your people.”
        Rococo, the heroine of this city, left. She did not regret for her decision, for she had been thirsting for her life back.

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