He killed his own mother with his own hands. After six years adrift in a sea of blood, the situation in the Southern Dynasty was finally brought under temporary control.
The common people all cheered Zhang Qiyan for his peerless valor on the battlefield and the boundless care he showed them.
Harmless and kindhearted, warm and approachable: that was how he seemed, but it was not his true nature.
“Sometimes I really wonder, do you truly love me?”
“Of course.” He smiled as he took her hand.
He could give Zhang Qing all his love, but when faced with the greater picture, he would choose it, even if that meant giving up everything.
The morning light faded, and the sky dimmed. Suddenly, he felt that losing himself a little in genuine affection might not be such a bad thing.
It was just that he had lost the one he loved, yet had to pretend he didn't care.
But Heaven took pity on him. Despite all the hardships, he still found the one he had always loved.
“Your Highness, is there anything you want now?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Your eyes see only me.”
Those words came from his heart.
