A stern-faced Emperor was an intimidating sight.
He gripped Jiang Xian's wrist. His dark eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, his chiseled features exuding a cold detachment, like a displeased tiger that had been disturbed and offended.
But Jiang Xian wasn't afraid of him. With her free hand, she picked out one of the flowers she had just cut and held it out to him. "This night-blooming jasmine is the most beautiful. I wanted to pick it for you, Your Majesty."
Xie Che stared at her, stunned.
He looked a little dazed, like a cat forced onto its back by its owner, paws in the air and utterly bewildered. He still wore a sullen, angry expression, but his imposing aura had all but vanished. "You..."
"Does Your Majesty not want it?"
Jiang Xian tilted her head, looking at him.
