Zhaofeng came and put down the teapot. A heavy sound cut off Zhao Mo's words, so he raised his eyes and for the first time looked at his little junior sister with some surprise.
"Elder brother doesn't know something." She paused and carefully picked out a jasmine flower from the tea cover. "The childhood sweethearts are outdated. Nowadays, overbearing emperors like He Zheyan are popular... Well, it's not quite accurate to say he is overbearing. You have also seen that he is still very nice and kind to me."
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After all, the world is so big that she has nowhere to go.
She didn't blame He Zheyan, but she couldn't bring up any affection. She just waited for the day in the mirror of heaven to come in the worry of whether to live or to die.
And as expected, that day came on an ordinary winter moon afternoon. Zhaofenglai grabbed his sleeve and slid it into the vast white snow. The last words he said had nothing to do with him: "I have always guessed what I said at this moment, but it turned out that I didn't say anything..."
He held her cold body in his arms and sat in the snow for a whole afternoon and a whole night.
When the sky first broke, the frost and snow almost buried them. The servants in the palace, big and small, knelt on the ground. I don't know if the sadness on their faces was pity for their queen who died young, or pity for their king who suffered the consequences and couldn't get what they asked for.