Night falls silently, people settle into their places.
In the dark room, the candlelight flickers indistinctly.
An elderly man with white hair carefully seals the collected silver needles into a needle pouch, then takes out a porcelain box, opens it, dips the tip of a brush lightly, and dots it on the tear mole at the corner of the boy's left eye, to mask its excessive beauty.
The boy's slender and frail figure leans on the armrest, his lip color like paper after the needle treatment, beads of cold sweat on his forehead unwiped, listening with closed eyes to the low report of the black-clad man beside him: "...For His Highness's safety, apart from the Prime Minister and the central envoy, no one is allowed to visit... Master Xu argued with reason, enraging the superior, resulting in an order for him to reflect behind closed doors—"
"Tell Master Xu not to endanger himself again." Li Mu opened his eyes, the firelight reflected in them still cold and desolate.
