The silver-white large cloak of Feng Fuce, with its white furry collar, made him look as handsome as a jade-like young man.
The aura of ruthlessness and chill had diminished, replaced by a noble son's gentle coolness and warmth.
"The Emperor drank too much." Feng Fuce walked up to Bai Zhi'er, presenting her with a warmed Ju Zi from his sleeve.
Bai Zhi'er accepted it due to the gesture, her fair hand contrasting with the orange peel.
As she peeled it, she laughed: "What's going on? Father rarely gets drunk. Wasn't he waiting to welcome the new year with me?"
Behind Feng Fuce, Chu Ping remarked: "It's all the Historian Wang's fault. He touched on a sensitive topic. He suddenly mentioned that he dreamed of the Empress signaling him the other day."
"The Empress said he's about to have great fortune, becoming an Imperial Relative. After the Historian drank too much and mentioned it at the feast, the Emperor heard it."
