The voice of the Prince of Zhennan echoed in the silent plaza before the hall, carrying the weight of a decade that was steeped in the vicissitudes of time and a searing, unforgettable agony.
Every word seemed squeezed from the depths of his chest, laden with years of grievance and an irreconcilable resentment.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, Fu Yingzhi acutely noticed that when the Prince of Zhennan spoke the word "beloved," the Empress's well-manicured hands gripped the maid's arm so tightly that her nails almost sank into the flesh.
Chapter 138