A forty-two-year-old Son of Heaven, tears streaming down sorrowfully.
The more noble and esteemed, the more visible the sorrow and grief.
Indeed, he had nothing to rely on, nothing to depend on, always showing utmost respect and obedience to his royal uncle, nine generations back, faithfully following every word.
Indeed, he lacked talent and wisdom, but for thirty-two years, he behaved properly, never doing anything outrageous, never disgracing the honor of the Da Xia royal family.
Oh, the New Year's Eve just passed, and it's been thirty-three years now.
Recollecting thirty-three years ago, the Empress Dowager led that child by the hand toward the Dragon Throne. It was Si Jiao who was the first to bow, loudly proclaiming, "I am the Righteous Emperor of Da Xia!"
Thirty-three years passed in a blink, the young boy grew into a middle-aged man.
