The Emperor sat down on the stool opposite her, casually surveying this chamber.
It was still as opulent and grand as ever. The Golden Phoenix adorning the walls symbolized the Empress's exalted identity, and every object in the hall was a rare treasure from the mortal world.
Yet now, this chamber felt boundlessly desolate.
This was what she had fought for all her life.
These things should have belonged to the woman he loved most.
His gaze returned to the bed, where an old woman lay with her eyes closed. Looking at her aged visage, he felt a surge of jealousy.
Why was this vicious woman allowed to grow old? Allowed to die amidst the splendor of this golden palace, while the woman he loved most—the wife he had married in a proper ceremony—was left to rot in the wilderness?
She had claimed all things that did not belong to her. Why?
Enraged, the Emperor grabbed a cup containing cold tea from the table and shattered it violently against the floor.