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.,The little emperor Wanli could endure it, but Zhu Yijun absolutely couldn't.,Empress Li's cries gradually subsided, only twitching occasionally. Her sorrow reached its peak, unable to cry out, only sobbing continuously, mourning silently.。