The question was not rhetorical; it was the core dilemma of his existence.
Every decision, every calculated risk, and every deliberate act of self-imposed poverty was filtered through the single, non-negotiable variable: Huaijin's safety and happiness.
He had meticulously crafted this entire reality, the poor scholar, the ancient car, the cramped apartment, as a fortress. He couldn't afford to expose his true position, the immense wealth and power that came with his emperor title.
That exposure would instantly turn Huaijin into a target, a vulnerability for his rivals, a bargaining chip for his competitors, and a precious, glittering object for the avaricious. The risks were too high, the shadows too deep.
So, he played the part, sacrificing his comfort and true professional recognition for her peace.
And because he loved her so much, he couldn't bring himself to say no to the things she genuinely wanted, or the people she gravitated toward.
