Yuan Zhao looked at him quietly, his eyes full of gentleness and patience.
After a moment, she spoke softly: "Ah Heng, talk to the emperor sister."
Yuan Heng's hand paused slightly, he put down the bowl, and his expression froze for a moment.
But soon, he put on his usual smile and said lightly, "Royal sister, what did you say?"
His smile remained the same as always, with a hint of cynical ease, as if the emotion just now had never existed.
But Yuan Zhao did not respond, but just looked at him quietly with her warm and penetrating eyes.
Yuan Heng met her gaze and slightly avoided it, unwilling to look at her.
He knew that the imperial sister understood him best and would not tolerate him being perfunctory.
Silence spread in the warm room, and the firelight reflected on the faces of the two people.
After a long time, Yuan Heng slowly lowered his head, his fingers unconsciously stroking the fabric on his knees.
Yuan Zhao sighed softly, with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
"Ah Heng, when you were little, every time you did something wrong and wanted to cover it up, that's the look on your face."
Yuan Heng's fingertips shrank slightly, and he was finally defeated. His brows knitted slightly, and his tone was full of fatigue and helplessness.
"What does my sister want to know?"
Yuan Zhao did not answer in a hurry, but turned to look at the burning charcoal fire, fiddling with the tongs with his slender fingers.
Sparks exploded with a crackling sound, and for a moment the only sound in the room was the sound of burning flames.
She spoke slowly and asked, "Is there anything you want to ask me?"
Yuan Heng was silent for a moment, his eyes fell on the dancing flames, and finally asked,
"Father...are you okay?"
Yuan Zhao raised his eyes and glanced at him, his eyes moved slightly.
"What did Concubine Shu tell you?"
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