The Emperor signaled for everyone in the room to leave, and Prince Liang lay weakly, "Father Emperor."
The Emperor rose and sat by the bed, reaching out to pull away the blanket, his thin left hand touching the bandaged wound, "Does it hurt?"
Prince Liang, "... It hurts."
If Zhang Yang's dagger had been longer, it would have directly pierced his heart.
The Emperor withdrew his hand, "I don't think it hurts."
Prince Liang's heart raced, his head bowed, his scattered hair covering all emotions, his voice wavering, "It hurts a lot."
The Emperor stood up, "Since it was your choice, there's nothing I wish to say, just live well in the future."
Prince Liang was certain now, Father Emperor knew he had deliberately not dodged, knew he had intentionally gotten injured, "Son."
The Emperor interrupted, "Just focus on healing."
He had only come to confirm, now that he had confirmed, there was nothing else he wanted to say.
