This was a tragedy—a tragedy caused by a book.
But once the tragedy had begun, it had no choice but to continue.
Under the Emperor's expectant gaze, Richard continued expounding on his philosophy, gradually broadening the scope from Aristotle's ideas to Descartes' ideas, from the Cynic School to the Epicurean School, from mysticism to the unity of heaven and man. He forcibly turned the conversation into a philosophy forum, filling the air with philosophy—yes, the genuine kind of philosophical atmosphere.
And the Emperor actually seemed to enjoy that atmosphere. From time to time, he interrupted with his own insights.
Richard had to admit that some of the Emperor's views were quite novel. Setting aside his political status, it would not be excessive to call him an erudite philosopher.
And so, the two of them discussed philosophy for one hour, two hours, three hours...
If no one had interrupted them, they might have continued until deep into the night. Fortunately, the attendant from earlier hurried over at that moment and called softly, "Your Majesty."
"What is it?" The Emperor had been offering a new perspective on the pleasure-advocating Epicurean School and was preparing to discuss it with Richard. Clearly, he was somewhat displeased at being interrupted.
"Your Majesty, Mortes has arrived. He says he has something to report to you," the attendant answered carefully, forcing himself to speak.
"Tell him to wait." The Emperor waved a hand and decided, "Tell him I am busy. I will hear his report when I am finished."
"But..." The attendant was somewhat fearful, yet he did his best to uphold his principles. "But... Your Majesty, Mortes says he has something extremely urgent to report. He returned to Xia Ya without resting at all along the way."
"Honestly." The Emperor frowned, sounding somewhat resentful. "Why wasn't