Ping'an hesitated for a moment, looking at the new emperor's indifferent expression, wanting to say something, but Xiao Cheng didn't give him the chance.
A stern gaze passed over.
"Aren't you going out?"
Ping'an's voice stuck in his throat. "Yes."
Footsteps gradually receded and faded away.
The hall of Chongming became quiet.
Xiao Cheng was silent for a moment, wordlessly picking up the memorials on the desk.
A thick stack, like snowflakes, arrived every day from all over Qi Country to Tai City.
Being an emperor wasn't easy; he had always known that, striving for years to finally achieve his cherished position. Yet, satisfaction eluded him, leaving only weariness of body and mind.
The characters on the memorials kept enlarging in his vision; he was slightly distracted, his gaze inadvertently shifting toward that locked drawer.
The firelight cast upon his face blurred the sharp edges of his handsome features, giving rise to a trace of fierceness in his eyes.
With a thud!
