Neither the Emperor nor the Empress Suspects the Other

Easygoing modern woman transported to the past, a beautiful, carefree empress x the dog emperor who stubbornly believes she loves him

*Schrodinger's groveling arc: No one can say whether he'll succeed until the ending. It might be better if he just got his affairs in order and died.

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"Qingqing must miss me terribly. Otherwise, she wouldn't have grown so thin just because I haven't set foot in her palace for ten days straight."

Empress: It's so hot this summer. I don't feel like eating.

"Qingqing must love me dearly. Why else would the palace weaving workshop skimp on my allotment? Yet, as empress, Qingqing is still willing to sew me new clothes."

Empress: Do you know what playing it up means?

Another day of the dog emperor being full of himself.

"Qingqing loves me so much, and I honor and respect her. What would you know?"

The man wore a dazzling imperial robe, with sharp brows and bright eyes, and looked utterly dashing. He said this to the young eunuch beside him, but an unconcerned look still crept across his face. Then he turned and went to Consort De's Weiyang Palace.

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Later, after enduring it again and again, after growing cold toward her time and time again, he finally couldn't hold back his tears. He wished he could kneel and cling to her, just to beg for a little of her love.

His empress was like a lush lotus blooming quietly in summer.

Her expression was serene, her features as lovely as a painting, and the way she looked at him never changed. He had once been perfectly content with that. But after many years, he finally saw through her gentle facade to the blade-sharp truth: she had never cared about him.

Theme: Love means equality and mutual respect.