Feng Xizi covered her lips, opened her eyes wide, and endured the sadness as she looked at Mo Zhilan, who was standing silently by the screen.
She knew that Mo Nanhen and Mo Xianyu were Mo Zhilan's nephews, and blood was thicker than water. Especially Mo Zhilan and Mo Nanhen, a pair of uncles and nephews from the royal family, gave each other the deepest trust. Hand in hand, we have governed Tianche for decades, and there has never been a gap... This is a blood-based family relationship that cannot be eliminated even if it is cut off.
Even though Mo Zhilan was calm and intelligent, he could not be calm. He held the country, the country, and controlled hundreds of millions of people.
However, at this moment, just separated by a screen, there is already a life-long alienation that no one can restore.
For Mo Zhilan, he let Xuan Ling go because of his scruples, which led to Mo Nanhen's assassination... Regardless of whether this incident was the main reason or not, this mistake and this sin have been deeply buried in his heart.
"It will definitely be possible, Your Majesty. I believe the Regent, and he will definitely come back to see Your Majesty." Shen Zimo was already crying, but she still tried hard to maintain a smile, a bitter smile, a sore smile, "Your Majesty, You have to hold on, if you don’t see the regent, your majesty cannot give up, and I, my concubine, can’t live without your majesty..."
"I, I will definitely wait until the emperor's uncle... one... I will definitely..." Mo Nanhen's words were shaky. He told himself that he couldn't die now. No matter what, he had to see the emperor's uncle. Otherwise, he would die with his eyes open. .
Feng Xizi bit her lip, forcing back her tears, stretched out her hand to push Mo Zhilan, opened her lips, and said silently: Go, he is waiting for you.
Mo Zhilan finally came to his senses after being pushed by Feng Xizi. He was struggling to move, his palms clenched into blue. He walked around the screen, and his voice was erratic and elegant, like a feather, falling gently: "Your Majesty... minister, come back. Already."
Shen Zimo suddenly raised his head and looked at Mo Zhilan's appearance, stained with tears, but showing a look of surprise and relief, "Prince Regent, you are finally back!"
"I'm late." Mo Zhilan stepped forward and knelt on the dragon bed with one knee, "Your Majesty..."
On the dragon bed, Mo Nanhen, whose face was already gray, struggled to raise his hand. His left chest and waist and abdomen were stabbed by sharp blades. The only arm that could move freely seemed to have lost all its strength in an instant and became heavy and determined.
He no longer has the majesty of the past. At this moment, he is like a child, eagerly looking forward to, "Uncle Emperor, come to me..."
Mo Zhilan put her hand in Mo Nanhen's palm, and looked at his nephew, a ninety-five-year-old nephew, with great sadness in his heart.
Mo Nanhen's handsome face had completely lost all color, and the palm stretched out under the brocade quilt had become withered and weak. The smell of blood floated on the tip of Mo Zhilan's nose, and under the palm, Mo Nanhen's fingers were still trembling.
It had only been a few months since he left the imperial capital, and his high-spirited nephew was already so sick. Mo Zhilan's heart ached: "Nan Hen, you will be fine, the emperor will definitely heal you... Nan Hen, I believe the emperor will heal you..." …”
Mo Nanhen half-opened his eyes and looked at the extremely handsome uncle in front of him.
In his memory, the emperor's uncle, who was so calm even when his father died and was being persecuted by the ministers, really lost his cool this time.
Perhaps, in his heart, his abilities and methods were far inferior to those of his nephew, which accounted for too much weight...
For an emperor, too much emotion is a burden, but at this moment, the emperor's uncle's sadness still made him feel relieved.