Concubine Xian went back and cried, resenting the Emperor's cold-heartedness. But thinking of her son imprisoned in the dungeon, as a mother, she could not just watch and do nothing.
She sat in front of the mirror, looking at her own face.
In her forties, she was no longer young, with wrinkles already appearing at the corners of her eyes.
In the past two years, she had hardly spent the night with the Emperor.
To seduce the Emperor to come here with her beauty was no longer possible.
She sighed faintly.
The palace maid, attending to her, whispered, "Why does Your Highness sigh?"
"Women age too easily," Concubine Xian felt frustrated, "I just wonder why Concubine Jin is still so beautiful? She is only a few years younger than me, but look at her, with her jet-black hair, and bright face. Where does she look like she's in her forties? It's no surprise that His Majesty still favors her the most."
"But she doesn't serve the Emperor at night either."