The sky was gloomy, the red palace walls were cold and foreboding, and the usually vibrant glazed tiles of the Yangxin Hall's eaves appeared dull.
Yu Tingwan pushed Wei Zhao into the hall under Mr. Tu's guidance, lowering her gaze, and never glanced around.
Emperor Ying, dressed in the Dragon Robe, sat beside his throne in the Jinluan Hall, reviewing memorials. Upon hearing the noise, he raised his eyes to look.
The aura was intimidating, embodying the golden splendor and purity of royal authority.
Wei Zhao pressed his hand on the armrest, trying to stand up with difficulty. But after two attempts, he was out of breath and to no avail.
"Madam."
He sought help from Yu Tingwan.
"Quickly help me up to pay respects to His Majesty."
Yu Tingwan first performed a courtesy, as taught by Tan Jiang, to Emperor Ying before reaching out to assist him.
Emperor Ying stopped her.
"Your health is not well, don't strain yourself."
