The cries of battle at Meridian Gate Square disappeared, leaving only a cold, salty wind rushing in from the open palace doors.
Zhao Douan stood smiling on the mirror-like stone floor, and beside him, the regal and dignified Empress looked coldly at Li Yanfu.
At this moment, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence, all sounds seemed to be extracted and blocked.
Then, approximately ten heartbeats later, the crowd suddenly erupted with gasping cries akin to stormy waves, accompanied by stunned and horrified expressions on their faces.
"Your... Your Majesty!?"
"Zhao Douan!?"
Li Yanfu felt as if he had been struck heavily, under the metal helmet covering his greying head, his face was covered with wrinkles, and the once imposing countenance turned instantly pale and bloodless.
His first thought was that it was impossible, yet Xu Zhenguan's gaze was so familiar.
It was an eye expression that no one could disguise or imitate.
