The first light of dawn glimmered faintly.
The entire Imperial City lay shrouded in the hazy light of early morning. The scenery in the distance was indistinct, its missing details filled in by impressions everyone had accumulated over the years.
When everyone turned, all they could make out was a tall, blurred figure standing beyond the boundary between light and shadow cast by the hall's brilliant candlelight, slowly making his way into Chongyun Hall.
Only after he entered Chongyun Hall, bright as day, did Jiang Silin's sharply defined face finally come into view.
"Reports of victory arrived from the frontier long ago, announcing that Beiming Capital had fallen," Jiang Silin said in a steady voice, walking slowly toward Jiang Tinghuai. "If His Majesty truly is unharmed, returning to court during this time should hardly have been difficult."
"The people are frightened. As the sovereign of Great Rui, His Majesty ought to appear now and reassure them."
He slowly came to a stop at the head of the assembled officials, his eyes fixed on Jiang Tinghuai atop the Golden Terrace. Endless madness seemed to churn beneath his tranquil gaze.
Jiang Tinghuai fell silent for a moment before calling softly, "Royal Uncle."
Instead of answering him, he asked, "Why have you suddenly returned to the capital?!"
Jiang Silin froze. The icy light in his eyes trembled, then settled into an expression that was exceedingly difficult to describe.
Jiang Tinghuai met his gaze squarely, desperately suppressing the hope in his eyes.
Unlike the other princes and princesses in the palace, he was a little older. Before Prince Xin had left for his fief, Jiang Tinghuai had spent some time with him.
Back then, Prince Xin had been nowhere near as gloomy as he was now. Nor had Imperial Father begun showing much concern