Wuxie, still struggling against the guards, was unceremoniously shoved to his knees before the throne. The cold stone floor pressed against his legs, sending a sharp pain through his joints.
He gritted his teeth but refused to show weakness. Every eye in the room was on him now, and the pressure was suffocating.
The whispers had died down, replaced by an eerie silence. Wuxie could feel the weight of the room pressing down on him like a physical force. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating in his ears as if reminding him of the gravity of the situation.
When he looked up, he saw the Empress's eyes fixed on him, cold and unyielding. She didn't speak, but the sheer force of her gaze made Wuxie feel as though she could see into his very soul.
