Zhao Jing held her hand, gently stroking it, his tone ambiguous: "You won."
He admitted defeat.
Whether he was going crazy or acting foolish, the woman never paid any attention.
No matter how the wind and rain raged, her heart never opened even a fraction to him.
Zhao Jing leaned down and kissed her lips, whispering, "But I still can't let you go."
Jiang Tian's eyes remained calm.
He pulled her into his arms, leaned on her shoulder, and said slowly, "If you're afraid the mistress won't treat you well and don't want to be a concubine, then be the empress. I won't appoint anyone else; you will be my empress."
“You’re right. We’re husband and wife. If I become emperor, you will naturally become empress.”
His tone was extremely calm, as if appointing a powerless and tainted woman as empress were as simple as taking a leisurely stroll.
After a long silence, Jiang Tian's somewhat hoarse voice rang out: "Then how do you plan to silence the gossip?"
A cold glint flashed in Zhao Jing's eyes as he thought of those officials.
He chuckled softly and stroked Jiang Tian's hair: "They're nothing, I'll handle it."
Jiang Tian shook her head: "Just let me go. You're good at weighing the pros and cons, so letting me go is the best choice."
“No,” Zhao Jing said, his gaze deep and unfathomable. He took Jiang Tian’s hand and placed it on his chest. “Letting you go would be like tearing my heart out. I can’t bear it.”
He kissed her temple, and Zhao Jing's voice carried a rare hint of vicissitude: "You said last time that you tried to accept your fate, but you couldn't accept someone else being the empress. Now that you're the empress, then try again."
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