Everywhere they passed, he could sense the people's devout faith, as well as the emotions of the surrounding flowers, grasses, plants, and animals.
Shen Yangge seemed to be staring straight ahead, but his gaze occasionally lingered somewhere for a moment.
The journey from the imperial palace to the Sacrificial Terrace took roughly half an incense stick's time. Ordinarily, even a full incense stick's time would not have been enough. Capital City had too many bustling streets, crowded not only with locals but also with outsiders. Most of those outsiders hauled goods, taking up considerable space and making the streets, already packed with people and horses, even more congested.
Shen Yangge's calves had gone a little numb from kneeling. He was wearing so many layers that he had sweated quite a bit along the way, yet he could not raise a hand to wipe it away.
He endured it until they reached the Sacrificial Terrace. Throughout the entire process, he was not allowed to come into contact with anyone.
Shen Yangge had to get down from the carriage himself.
Getting up had not been difficult, but getting down was another matter. His calves were numb. Standing was manageable, but walking would take a little more time.
As the carriage stopped, the pedestrians halted, and silence fell over the surroundings. Shen Yangge slowly stood, swaying slightly, but he soon overcame the numbness in his legs and prepared to step down from the carriage.
A hand with well-defined knuckles appeared before him. Shen Yangge paused, then lowered his gaze along that hand and met a familiar pair of eyes.
Today, the Crown Prince wore a black robe with broad sleeves. Gold thread and dark red patterns adorned its crossed collar and cuffs, depicting dragons and other designs Shen Yangge could not identify. His