It was just as the Emperor said—nothing more than a stroll.
The grandeur of the Falling Star Palace stretched in every direction: towering jade pillars, gilded archways, and gardens that seemed to flow endlessly like rivers of blossoms.
Yet, despite the splendor, the conversation remained strangely trivial.
The Emperor spoke of architecture, of the weather, even of palace routines.
Bai Zihan responded sparingly, his crimson gaze sweeping over his surroundings as though none of it impressed him.
Sun Yaoqing walked a step behind them, silent, her delicate hands folded before her. She listened, her curiosity sharpening with each word.
Then, as they passed beneath a pavilion draped with flowering wisteria, the Emperor's tone shifted.
"Tell me, Bai Zihan," he said casually, though his eyes were watchful, "have you found any young lady in this palace who caught your interest?"
"I already have a fiancée, your majesty."
The Emperor chuckled.
