Before, he hadn't thought she was any different from the other women. She was lively, cheerful, and straightforward, always making him laugh until his belly ached. That's why he liked having her serve him.
(Of course, there was another more important reason... Zhao Junyao: "AHEM, AHEM, I can't tell you!")
If I were a great tree, then the women of the Harem were the flowers that grew around me. Warblers and swallows, a riot of color. I was their sky, shielding them from the wind and rain, providing them with a stable life, gracing them all with my favor—I was the emperor, naturally adept at this. They served me, yearning for my nourishment, my affection. For me, they could abandon their thoughts, disguise themselves as someone not even they recognized. It seemed this was their destiny. Everyone followed this specific pattern, willingly and without objection; it wasn't wrong.
