Xie Che hadn't wanted her to look at the memorials.
It wasn't that he was wary of her. If letting a concubine glance at a few memorials could throw the empire into chaos, it would only mean the nation was already on the verge of collapse, merely waiting for the last straw. No, it was because he had learned from Song Yuanzheng that Jiang Xian had been attending to him tirelessly these past days, not even taking the time to change her clothes. She meticulously disinfected and washed everything he handled or came into contact with, while for herself, she would only wipe her body down with a hot towel, terrified of leaving his side for even a second.
Under the Emperor's authority, everything in the world existed to serve him.
Xie Che was very conscious of his status as the Emperor and was rarely moved by the efforts of others.
It was like turning on a faucet; when water flowed out, no one would think to thank the faucet.
To a man in his position, other people were merely faucets.
