He slowly stood up, looking around. Above him were intricately carved beams and painted pillars, beneath his feet lay a floor of golden bricks. Behind a screen depicting five-clawed golden dragons was a long writing desk. On either side of the desk were two crane-shaped palace lamps, their flickering light casting swirling smoke. The cold air of late autumn, scented with sandalwood, blew across his nose.,While the concerned noblewoman, on the other hand, was the biological mother of the young emperor, Empress Dowager Li with the honorable title of Cistern Saint.,Zhu Yijun was playing to his greatest advantage; at only ten years old, he could feign innocence.。