The sandalwood smoke curled gently.
A pot of clear tea.
The dragon bed.
The maid massaged his back.
In the main hall of the Prince's residence.
The young man, whom the Prince called the Little Heir, was in such a posture.
He was not wearing the ordinary clothes of daily life.
But an ancient robe adorned with small flowers.
Accompanied by the swirling sandalwood smoke, it added a sense of artistic conception.
A sense of the Qing era.
And these were not specifically arranged at his request.
It was just that the Prince offered his own enjoyment for the young man to indulge in.
It can thus be seen that even though the Great Qing has perished for nearly a century, the descendants carrying the royal blood of the Qing are still unwilling to let go of that pride which has long since become worthless.
Let alone anything else, just the braid he kept and the Qing royal robe he wore illustrated this well.
At this moment, the Prince was like a servant.
