Rong Che turned around and strode out; now that he is the Regent Emperor, he has state affairs to deal with.
Behind him, Feng Yao called, "Emperor, Emperor."
Unfortunately, Rong Che seemed not to hear her and strode out.
Outside the palace, on the carriage of the Regent Prince Mansion, Feng Qing looked helplessly at the quietly sleeping man on the soft couch. In the past, his handsome face had now lost all color, even his lips had turned pale. In his quiet sleep, he looked like a sleeping beauty.
If not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, one might think he is a sleeping beauty who had been asleep for a thousand years. Yet despite his bloodless face, there wasn't a trace of haggardness, instead, there was a softness that made one's heart ache and filled one with uncontrollable pity for him.
Feng Qing looked at him and sighed, what a troubling fate.
