I hated Xu Yuheng for twenty years.
She humiliated me, trampled on my dignity, and tormented me as if she wanted me dead.
She watched me quietly, as though I were a child throwing a tantrum.
Then the emperor died, and I lost everything.
When I awoke, I was locked in a secluded chamber, red candles flickering.
She bent down, wiped the tears from the corner of my eye, and whispered, “Don't be afraid. You will be empress. You always were.”
The late emperor entrusted the young heir to her care, and she ruled as regent in the name of the empress.
Then she locked me in her bedchamber, where we faced each other day and night.
Theme: If she doesn't love you anymore, let her go.
