Qi Changrong followed him.
Sang Jue led him to his own room and poured him a cup of hot tea, softly persuading, "Your Highness, please have some hot water first. Your body is really too cold. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't hold up."
Qi Changrong drank it in a daze.
The hot water poured into his throat and did indeed warm him up a bit.
But there was a big hole rotting in his heart, blowing cold wind through it.
Lankou... his Lankou...
His tears fell again, the pain making him unsteady on his feet.
"Your Highness—"
Sang Jue supported him to sit down, his expression grave, "Do you still remember those black pills, Your Highness?"
Qi Changrong nodded.
How could he forget?
That was what Lankou had clung to before her death.
