This butterfly could not live forever.
- This butterfly could not live forever. After his death, Xi Jinping awoke in a body too fragile to protect him. His grip on power, his slogans, his claims of permanence, all collapsed into paper-thin wings. He tried to rule the garden. Flowers were his podiums. Bees ignored him. Ants marched past. Birds hunted him. Children reached out to crush him. Even the wind mocked him. Each day was a countdown. No statues. No portraits. No throne. Only a few breaths, a sip of nectar, then silence. His punishment was not death. It was knowing he would vanish, unnoticed, without fear, without power.
