History Always Bears Astonishing Resemblances

That night.

In the southern border!

Fine rain persisted, accompanied by the rumbling of distant thunder.

Within the residence of Zhennan Marquis, the main hall was lit by flickering candlelight, casting shadows that danced upon the faces of two individuals seated facing each other.

Between them lay a letter and a memorial, bearing the imperial seal of the Jing Nation's monarch.

It was news that had arrived from the capital during the day.

"The boy is dead..." Zhennan Marquis's voice was dry, echoing softly in the chamber.

"Yes, he's dead... a useless waste. I've always said you shouldn't have let him go. You should have gone yourself," responded the woman across from him.

Wrapped in a black robe, though her attire was loose, a gust of wind revealed the shapely figure underneath.

Her slender fingers tapped lightly on the table.

Zhennan Marquis felt a tinge of anger at her words, but he suppressed it as he recalled something.