The imperial city shrouded in darkness was extremely cold, and a few crows hovering over the Ziyang Palace pierced the quiet sky with their shrill cries.
In the Ziyang Palace, Prince Bai Zhao knelt in front of the dragon bed. Lying on the dragon bed was his dying father. The old emperor's old hands tightly grasped Bai Zhao's slender knuckles, and his sunken eyes stared at Bai Zhao's red and swollen eyes: "Zhao'er, I... I am dying... I entrust my throne to you, cough cough..." The old emperor coughed violently.
Bai Zhao's tears fell again: "Father. . Father will be fine. "