Yes, the north wind that had been blowing grew stronger as the army’s flags fluttered and danced harmoniously in the wind, adding to the grandeur of the event.
The expressions on countless faces changed when they saw this phenomenon; some of them were delighted while some of them were worried; others just had mixed feelings. Somewhere among the crowd, there was a small group of people who remained stoic but their gazes shone brilliantly, the sharpness within barely concealed.
"Indeed…"
Qiu Jianhan stood in the breeze, his gaze distant and longing.
The wind grew stronger and more violent.
His Majesty, who was waiting with his head lowered, raised it high in alarm as he stood up expectantly.
Yang Botao’s eyes shut slowly.
He would come! How could he not? Once he comes, I’m gone.
It was something he had acknowledged and had been prepared for, but when the time truly arrived, his last sliver of hope would be gone.