Deep in a great house, blood; the night hangs vast.
One awl, one fury — and a tyrant falls.
The scholar walks in, glad to pay the price;
the seamstress, wronged, her heart torn through.
Vermilion gates hide jackal-tiger schemes;
high walls lock in the grief of songbirds caged.
Judge Dee has known a wronged man's cell himself —
by one cold lamp, he weighs the right of it.