Midday in the imperial garden.
Beneath the wisteria trellis, she wore plain robes, no golden hairpins, no glittering jewels.
A few newly entered Daying stood at a distance, covering their mouths as they laughed softly.
“Dressed like that… hardly proper.”
“If no one said anything, one would think she were a palace maid.”
Their words had barely fallen.
The air suddenly stilled.
The shadow of a dragon robe stretched long across the stone path.
He stood there, without a word.
Only a faint, indifferent glance swept over them.
Their faces drained of color in an instant.
The Chief Eunuch dropped to his knees, voice trembling yet resolute.
“Take them away.”
The guards moved at once. Pleas for mercy were cut short as the women were dragged from the garden.
Before long, silence returned.
He stepped forward until he stood before her.
The killing intent had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a quiet, unreadable calm.
“Why did you come out without attendants?”
His voice was low and even.
He reached out, adjusting the edge of her sleeve as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“The wind is still cold.”
He regarded her for another brief moment.
“Do not let yourself suffer a loss.”