Song Qingshu then remembered that he had been busy stabilizing the political situation these past few days and had neglected Zhao Min's feelings. Now that Murong Jingyue was dead and they did not know the formula for the Three Corpses Godly Brain Pill, she was probably bound to let her imagination run wild.
Thanking Su Quan for the reminder, Song Qingshu got up and hurried toward the palace where Zhao Min was staying. After the coup, he had moved Zhao Min and Bing Xue'er into the imperial palace. Though the two women were somewhat unaccustomed to it, they ultimately did not refuse for the sake of safety and convenience.
Before he even arrived, he heard waves of serene zither music drifting from a distant pavilion. Dismissing the accompanying palace maids and eunuchs, Song Qingshu quietly approached. He did not rush to disturb her, instead stopping nearby to watch and listen. Zhao Min's music had once always carried a faint air of heroic spirit, but now its melody was mournful and sorrowful. She was clearly burdened with worries.
The night breeze gently brushed past, making Zhao Min's skirts sway slightly. She seemed less radiant and passionate than usual, and more delicately pitiful.
"The night air is cold. Go back inside," Song Qingshu said when he noticed her body trembling faintly.
Zhao Min shook her head and gazed at the bright moon overhead. "You get one fewer glimpse of such scenery with every passing day. How can I not look at it a little longer?"
Song Qingshu heard the despair in her voice and was about to comfort her when Zhao Min turned back first. "Speaking of which, I haven't congratulated you yet. Congratulations on taking control of Liao Country. To seize control of a whole nation so effortlessly—I truly admire you."