Calling someone over was out of the question.
Zhai Le did not want to make such a huge commotion that the court officials would swarm him and leave him covered in trouble.
He tensed the muscles along his jaw. His entire body was like a bowstring drawn to its absolute limit, and his peach-blossom eyes were dark, carrying a solemnity he had lacked in his youth. He tried to force Shen Tang to rise of her own accord with his gaze, but unfortunately, Shen Tang's face was thicker than the corner of a city wall.
Not only did she refuse to get up, she even used a memorial to fan herself.
In the end, Zhai Le was the first to crack. He clenched his fists tightly, suppressing the urge to lash out, and reasoned with her emotionally and logically. "You are the king of Kang. You should be sitting on Kang's throne. This is Qu, and the throne you're sitting on now is Qu's throne!"
After being apart for years, don't force him to start cursing and hitting people!
Shen Tang said, "The essence of a throne lies in the divine mandate, not its form. Without glory adorning it, it is ultimately nothing more than a broken chair meant for sitting. If I sit on this chair, does that make me the king of Qu? Xiaofang, Xiaofang, you've become attached to appearances."
After years of trading blows with the court officials, Zhai Le had honed his tongue as well. Once he opened his mouth, he could choke a person to death. "Attached to appearances? I thought you shaved your head because you were greedy for a cool breeze, but I didn't expect you to truly have the intention of entering monastic life."
Shen Tang, the "Zixu": "..."
The arc of