Outside the main hall of the Eastern Palace, the vermilion-lacquered doors had remained tightly shut for three full days.
At the first glimmer of dawn, the white marble plaza before the hall was already packed with kneeling figures.
At the forefront, Eunuch Feng, the Eastern Palace's chief steward, wore a crimson robe. His whisk rested across the crook of his arm, and no joy or anger could be read from his wrinkled face.
At his side stood Peng Tiansheng, the newly appointed commander of the guards, one hand on his saber. His black iron armor gleamed coldly beneath the morning light.
This Martial Arts Grandmaster from a collateral branch of the Peng family was now filled with worry between his brows.
"Eunuch Feng..." Peng Tiansheng lowered his voice, the saber at his waist softly clinking with his uneasy steps.
"His Highness the Crown Prince has not eaten for three days. This..."
Eunuch Feng slightly raised his eyelids. The thin, withered fingers hidden within his sleeve gently stroked his whisk. "Commander Peng, mind your words."
His voice was as thin as a drifting thread, yet it made Peng Tiansheng shudder all over. "Just now, this old servant already sent someone to report to His Majesty..."
The words were spoken softly, yet they were like a basin of icy water dumped over Peng Tiansheng's head.
His hand immediately slipped from the saber hilt. The thought of sending someone to the Peng residence to deliver word, which he had just been considering, vanished into thin air.
Eunuch Feng's meaning was obvious: His Majesty was already on his way to the Eastern Palace.
If he still sent someone to notify Imperial Uncle Peng Lie—his own granduncle—
and his granduncle happened to run into His Majesty, would that not be terribly awkward?
After all, the