She remembered that when she first met him, he was standing in a place with bright lights and the attention of thousands of people. He had a faint smile, his eyes flashed with a snap of his fingers, and he was so magnificent. He was really the most charming person in the country.
He remembered that when he first saw her, she stood silently, her eyebrows lowered, and she humbly handed over the palace clothes. Her voice was as cold as the night: "Young Master, when you enter this palace, you are one of the emperor's people. Don't think about what you have and what you don't have. Take it as a sign of self-respect."
She remembered that at that time, he was a high-ranking and admired Prince Qingcheng, the beloved son of Beiyan; but she was just a noble girl among hundreds of others.
He remembered that at that time, she was Wei Linglong, the most powerful and favored female official in the Daqi Palace, while he was just a Duanxiu in the harem who had been abandoned by his family and had no status.
He hated her, doubted her, tested her, used her, all for one reason.
She saved him, protected him, helped him, loved him, and only wanted one result.
In the deep palace, he was walking in the cool night, with dark hair like satin, and a childish tenderness on his stunning face. At that moment, their eyes met, and there was silence, except for that low-pitched sentence: "Aunt Wei."
Like the hardest ice melting, the first flower growing out of the coldest snow, the cool warmth spreads out like a thread.