Imperial Palace · Diligent Splendor Hall
Situated in a secluded corner of the Imperial City, its halls connected one after another, it was exceedingly quiet and deep.
Eunuch Zhao, Huo Wuyong, Xue Ming, and the others silently withdrew. The sky was high and the air cold, the autumn wind rushing into their arms. A single moon had painted the entire hall with a layer of silver, while only the eunuchs stood in the darkness with expressionless faces and hands hanging at their sides, like the ghostly judges and imps in a temple, chilling the heart.
A figure sat before the table, watching the curling incense in the burner give off its clear, cold fragrance, deep in thought amid the night wind that chilled him to the marrow.
After a long while, a flare of light sprang up, and a candle on the table was lit.
In the vast, silent side hall, the candlelight did not make it brighter. Instead, it added several shades of gloom.
The face before the candle was illuminated. It was the Emperor.
The Emperor's Zhang face had already grown thoroughly aged. It was less apparent during the day, concealed by his imposing bearing, but beneath this candlelight, it appeared pale and gloomy.
"Prince Dai has already received his reward, yet his fortunes have not changed much?"
The Emperor held a wad of paper in his right hand. After hesitating, he finally slowly spread open his hand by the candlelight.
In his somewhat withered palm lay a Zhang wrinkled sheet of paper.
He slowly unfolded and smoothed the paper across the table. The writing on it was blurred in the candlelight, yet stabbed brightly into his eyes.
"It should be real." The Emperor's voice was so soft that only he could hear it, carrying almost no emotion.