As Han Feng left the chamber, the scent of incense faded behind him, replaced by the memory of Xue Li's shy smile. And in that moment, he realized that power and legacy, once his greatest desires, now paled in comparison to the simple joy of being loved by one woman who saw him not as an emperor, but as a man.
Amid the chaos, a quiet figure stood at the side, observing everything with calm detachment—Xin Yu, one of the palace's trusted officials and Han Feng's right hand man.
He sighed inwardly at the foolishness of those who dared to deceive the emperor. Time and again, such attempts had only led to ruin. Had they not yet learned that Han Feng was not a man to be trifled with?
Yet, as Xin Yu reflected on the emperor's ruthless nature, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—a thought that made him pause. Perhaps . . . there was one woman who could deceive the emperor and escape unscathed. Perhaps there was one exception to Han Feng's iron will.
