Wang Wan and Huai Zhuang exchanged glances, a sense of bitterness deep in their hearts. Compared to the Eldest Imperial Son's grand wedding, why does the Great King seem so joyful at this moment? It's almost as if the Eldest Imperial Son isn't the Great King's own child, while Zhao Feng is. To treat a subject with such kindness, yet face his own flesh and blood, the Eldest Imperial Son, with a cold demeanor. For the Great King to act this way has surely chilled the Eldest Imperial Son's heart.
And Fusu, watching his father, Ying Zheng, sitting among the elders with a smile, couldn't help but smile bitterly to himself. Father, if you hadn't arranged my marriage to Li Si's daughter—if it weren't for Li Si, and you had chosen even a commoner's daughter—I would have been grateful to you. But you don't care about my feelings at all, only about the towering authority of your kingship. If only you had been this happy at my wedding, I could die content.
