In the tranquil depths of the Imperial Palace, Emperor Zhou, dressed in casual attire, stood beside a verdigris pillar with dragon patterns, watching a figure not far away.
"She didn't come?"
"No, you should know that."
The man in a white robe turned around, revealing the face of Chen Hua. His gaze was sharp as a sword, looking directly into Emperor Zhou's steadfast eyes.
"Is she still avoiding me?"
"What else?"
Emperor Zhou's expression remained unchanged, but if one looked closely, in his eyes, there was a hidden sentiment—uncertain if it was pity or respect—when he saw the man before him.
"Zhou Zhukong, do you hate me?"
"What do you think?"
Chen Hua turned away, his face showing a hint of sorrow as he lowered his head to touch the white robe he was wearing, his eyes filled with reminiscence. Under the searing sun, Chen Hua's shadow stretched out very long.
Inside the immense and majestic Imperial Palace, all was silent at this moment.
