Xiao Cheng stood with his hands behind his back, looking in the direction of her gaze.
"At this time of year, the flowers have all withered."
Li Sangruo chuckled, "This actually doesn't pose a problem for you and me. Winter flowers, summer snow—if one wishes it, can't an emperor command it so?"
Xiao Cheng's brow furrowed slightly.
Though at the pinnacle of power, his desires differed from those of Li Sangruo.
"Is Qi Jun aware that this conference hall is the work of Feng Twelve?"
Xiao Cheng's expression remained calm, "I've heard something of the sort."
Li Sangruo gave a gentle smile.
"What a pity. Qi Jun ought to have had a virtuous wife, but alas... how the world turns."
Xiao Cheng didn't turn around, "Empress Dowager wouldn't have sought me out just to speak of these sorrowful matters, would she?"
The Jixiang behind him lowered his head.