He had stood in front of everyone, but they...
They had no choice but to retreat.
At that moment, there was no telling how bitterly he hated his own helplessness.
"She... Is she the Emp—Dad always talks about..."
"Lian'er!"
Seeing her youngest daughter about to say those two words, the mother hurriedly cut her off. That title was taboo in every
city.
"It's all right..."
Mr. Zhang waved a hand. He looked at his youngest daughter in his arms, then at the two sons standing beside him, and finally at
his wife. She, too, had married him
back in Chang'an.
"Now that it's come to this, those two words aren't taboo anymore."
His wife frowned, then gave a helpless smile.
She looked down at the endless sea of shambling corpses, her voice heavy with powerlessness...
"Yes... If only the Empress were still here."
"Mom... Who was the Empress, really? Why do you never let us mention her?"
Their second son was only thirteen, his face full of curiosity.
"She was... the person who gave us hope, and the person we abandoned."
The boy looked blank. At thirteen, he didn't quite understand such weighty talk, but he knew that whenever his mother and
father mentioned those two words,
their voices carried deep guilt.
Their eldest son stood to one side, watching his aging father. He had grown up in Chang'an and had been
six when they evacuated.
So he knew who she was. He had even seen her. Though he had not lived through humanity's darkest
hour, he would never forget
that lonely figure blocking the only road to Chang'an, fighting an endless swarm of insects.
"Dad..."
The eldest son wanted to comfort his father, but he didn't know what to say. He glanced at the gray hair at his temples