Zhao Rong stepped out of the Guanghan Palace with a calm expression.
The music maidens stationed outside instinctively opened up a path for him.
Yet, none of them averted their gaze to look at him.
Zhao Rong walked forward with his sleeves folded, taking a few steps before suddenly pausing when some of the maidens quietly glanced at him.
The young Confucian Scholar suddenly turned his head, with a touch of apology on his face:
"Um...could you do me a favor?"
The maidens exchanged puzzled looks.
The young scholar scratched his head and spoke somewhat sheepishly, "If the Empress Dowager returns to the palace later, could you please inform her that Zhao came seeking an audience."
"Ah, oh oh."
The crowd was momentarily stunned, then quickly nodded like chickens pecking at rice.
"Then I leave this in your hands."
The young scholar smiled warmly, turned, and left directly, seemingly murmuring as he walked away.
"Alas, a wasted trip today...not even a shadow..."
