The entire Yanjing City knew that Zhao Yang had feelings for the young master of the Yan family.
Today, at Princess Zhao Yang's birthday banquet, if she were to ask the emperor for permission to marry Yan Yunting, he would have no choice but to accept. There was no room for resistance—defying the imperial decree would mean gambling with the lives of his entire family.
A pang of sorrow flickered through Yan Yunting's heart. He still had Rou'er, the gentle-hearted woman he wished to marry. Yet, under the weight of imperial pressure, he would have no choice but to betray her.
Zhao Yang, oh Zhao Yang, why can't you just let me be? A forced marriage bears no sweetness—even if we were wed, it would only yield bitter fruit.
Seated in the place of honor at the banquet, Zhao Yang was in high spirits. She knew that if she requested her father's blessing for the marriage today, he would surely grant her wish.
Her gaze drifted toward Yan Yunting, seated in the distance.
Her smile froze.