The blood on his face was still warm when Ji Mo Yuan escaped the desolate sight of his son's pavilion. He stormed away, rage and guilt churning in his guts. As the residence of the Crown Prince and part of the Imperial Palace where the Emperor and his harem lived, the extravagance of the Eastern Palace had long been known to all in Zhou. And yet his own son had lived a life worse than a stray dog. Beaten by those he should have been able to trust and rely on.
And through all those painful years, Ji Mo Yuan had remained blissfully ignorant of his child's suffering. Did Ji An cry for him when his stomach growled in hunger? Or had his son long lost any hope of ever seeing Ji Mo Yuan care for him one day? The mere idea hurt, but he knew his pain was nothing when compared to Ji An's.
