The night was deep and people were silent.
Zhao Changhe lay in bed, staring transfixed at the gold leaf, which displayed the battle process with the Sword Guard.
He didn't know if the actual images were passing through his mind or not.
In his thoughts were only the moments just passed, when he had sent Sisi back to Tang Wanju's side and explained his thoughts to her; Tang Wanju's face had suddenly become joyful. Such a vivid expression was rare on someone who was usually so serene.
Thinking from a diplomatic and united front perspective was not something an ordinary person from the Worldly Society would consider. This was the approach of a Prince, and furthermore, a Prince with ambitions for his country.
But Zhao Changhe knew he only wished to alleviate some of Tang Wanju's burdens; the frailty of her shoulders seemed to carry too much weight.
