Outside Jingren Palace.
Sun Shaozong stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, his body slightly hunched as he sheltered in the lee of the narrow passage between the palace walls, seemingly unable to bear the sunless chill.
In truth, he merely wanted to seem less conspicuous, lest he be dragged into the farce not far away.
"Let me go! Don't stop me! I want to see the Emperor! I want to see the Emperor!"
The woman crying herself hoarse like something out of an Eight O'Clock Dog Blood Drama was none other than Consort Rong, whom Sun Shaozong had met once before.
As the saying went, a fallen phoenix was no better than a chicken. Yet in terms of looks alone, Consort Rong had not deteriorated noticeably since then. In fact, perhaps because she had deliberately dressed up before coming, she even looked a little better than she had during their chance encounter.
But the treatment she received now had plummeted.
Even Dai Quan had once been obliged to show her some deference. Now, however, she was being blocked outside the gates by several young eunuchs and had been unable to advance a single step for a full quarter of an hour.
Moreover, despite all the commotion, not a single supervising eunuch had come over to speak with her. It was clear they were avoiding her like the plague.
Of course, that was not to say Consort Rong's fuss had accomplished absolutely nothing—she had, after all, made it to the palace gates.
Sun Shaozong therefore retreated another step and glanced sidelong at Consort Rong before hurriedly lowering his head.
The woman had already been dressed rather scantily, and after fifteen minutes of playing "hawk catches chicks," the swelling contours nearly bursting free made her impossible to look at directly.