On the night the Southern Tang palace fell, Shen Zhiwei saw with her own eyes that the crown prince of Northern Qi, who had trampled her homeland, was the same graceful young man who had promised her a grand wedding beneath the spring moonlight in Jiangnan.
Her country fell, her family perished, and her clan was wiped out.
She went from a cherished princess of Southern Tang to a prisoner overnight.
He gave her status and protected her, his gaze filled with an obsessive devotion that would not fade.
Shen Zhiwei sneered.
“Xiao Yanci, you destroyed my country and killed my family. And now you come pretending to be so devoted? Doesn’t that disgust you?”
But the innocent, carefree princess she had once been was long dead.
Now she commanded schemes and held people’s hearts in her hands.
She plotted at every step, throwing his empire into chaos and crushing his affection.
The world called the crown prince cold-blooded and ruthless,
but no one saw him pursue his wife, bend down to wipe dirt from her embroidered shoes, and give her all the tenderness he had to offer for the rest of his life.
She merely looked at him with calm eyes and said,
“Your Majesty, the man who destroyed my country has no right to speak of love.”
As the saying goes: a shattered mirror can never be made whole, and a lost homeland will never return.
