"You insolent wretch!"
Dijun stormed back into his bedchamber, swept everything off the table onto the floor in a single motion, then removed his golden headdress. With no visible action, the headdress collapsed into a small ball, clenched tightly in his fist.
"My lord, what happened?"
A graceful woman clad in elegant robes walked toward him, her demeanor serene and noble, undoubtedly a beauty. She approached softly, gently holding Dijun's hand, her expression calm but carrying a faint smile.
"It's nothing."
"My lord, do you no longer share your frustrations with Empress Ehuang?"
A man who takes out his anger at home after suffering outside is surely lacking. Dijun was clearly not that kind of man. He sighed lightly, sat on a round stool, and grasped his wife's hand. "Ehuang, I've grown old. To be humiliated by a mere boy and unable to retaliate."
