Li Haochen could hear only a buzzing sound.
It was as if his brain had flooded, and the water filling it was all bitter.
That bitter water poured down from the crown of his head into his five viscera and six bowels, leaving his entire body in tearing agony.
He did not dare raise his head to look at the gazes of these hundreds of thousands of people.
He knew they had to be "incredulous," "shocked," and "dumbfounded."
In their eyes, he would become a laughable backdrop.
But he was the son of the Sovereign, a symbol of loftiness and supremacy. Never in his life could he play such a role.
That rupture twisted his heart. It felt as though a burst snake gallbladder had been stuffed into his mouth, and despair he had never experienced before was annihilating every scrap of pride and confidence he had in himself.
"Hah... hah..."
Li Haochen's eyes widened as he gasped heavily.
In his mind, that majestic golden figure was like a towering mountain, pressing down upon his head.
It nearly crushed every mustard seed in his body into dust.
For twenty-five years, he had stood atop the mountain, basking in respect and admiration.
Yet at this moment, he had fallen!
His body and soul had both smashed into a bloody pulp, then been trampled beneath the feet of another person his own age.
Li Haochen thought of death.
The glory of his clan, his father's scrutiny, his clansmen's expectations—none of it allowed him to fail.
Yet he had failed, dragging this undefeated clan into humiliation with him.
Perhaps only death could bring release!
This was the first time in Li Haochen's life that he had thought of "running away."
"If I die, it'll be as though none of this ever happened..."
He