July is the hottest time in Chang'an City. After a few days of rain, there are still only a few thunder rolls in the clouds, but they can't fall. Everyone's heart feels like a city wall has been pressed against it.
The night was dark, there was no sign of the stars or the moon, and even the lotus leaves in the lotus pond were fast asleep. There were only sporadic fireflies, feebly extinguishing.
King Jing put Anu to sleep and closed his eyes by the window in meditation. Although there was not a breath of wind outside the window, the autumn wind of Taiye Pond seemed to be blowing on King Jing's face.
He is about to become the master of Daming Palace.
The entire city of Chang'an will surrender under his feet.
What makes him particularly proud is that the moment he ascends to the supreme position will always be reflected in Langer's tearful eyes.
Thinking of Lang'er, King Jing's heart surged with tenderness. It seemed that the more he loved the child, the more he pity him, and the more pity he had, the more he loved him. After painstaking efforts to cure Lang'er's hands and feet, he could no longer tolerate Lang'er's slightest grievance.