After a brief entanglement with Liang Ji in Shoukang Palace, Chen Mo did not linger in the palace for long. He donned his robes and walked along the imposing palace path towards Han Yuan Hall.
Besides comforting Liang Ji, Chen Mo also wanted to understand the recent rumors circulating in the Capital.
To get from the harem to Han Yuan Hall, one must pass through the rear gardens.
Not far along, Chen Mo paused involuntarily.
By the lakeside pavilion, a dignified woman with an air of nobility and elegance was sitting quietly on a stone bench, dazed, without any palace maid or eunuch around.
This graceful and delicate figure was none other than Empress Zhao, Zhao Yushu.
Empress Zhao's attire was lavish—a pearly white Ni Chang embroidered with fine gold threads. Below her straight nose was a small cherry mouth, her gaze fixed on the calm lake surface, her heart forlorn.
"Empress." Chen Mo spoke softly as he approached.
After all, passing by her without greeting seemed impolite.
