The imperial palace's red walls and golden tiles, the flying eaves and dougong.
In the Imperial Study Room, a pin drop could be heard.
"Have you truly decided?"
Xiao Huaian's brows bore an uncharacteristic solemnity, and his usually playful eyes now carried a cold gleam.
Across from him, Ying Fuyan smiled lightly: "I summoned you into the palace, not to jest with you."
Ying Fuyan leaned against the Dragon Couch, pushing the Bright Yellow Scroll towards Xiao Huaian with his fingers.
He lifted his eyes to look at the bright spring scenery outside the window.
"You should know, I can't hold on for years."
When he said this, it was with composure.
"Even with Elder Ge, it would only prolong my life by a few years."
"Originally, I agreed to take this position so the hundreds of unjust souls in the Prince Yan Mansion could rest in peace. Ascending the throne was for the succession of imperial power, and only my identity could make it legitimate in all of Da Jin."
