The solemn Ancestral Temple was lit by golden lamps.
Chu Tianxin faced the tower-like mountain of divine tablets, his expression grave as he gazed at the names inscribed on each tablet.
Behind him, Prince Chen and the Third Prince knelt on the ground with their heads lowered, not daring to speak lightly.
"Regarding Lin Bai..."
Chu Tianxin remained silent for a long while before slowly speaking.
"What do the Imperial Ancestors think?"
Prince Chen and the Third Prince had assumed that Chu Tianxin would ask for their opinions. They had not expected him to change tack and address the divine tablets before him instead.
In an instant, all the divine tablets within the Ancestral Temple trembled in unison. Waves of golden light condensed upon each tablet, forming the figures of old men with wildly different appearances.
These figures, condensed from the power of faith, each had their own bearing. Some wore stern expressions and kept their mouths tightly shut, some looked relaxed and unconcerned, some were knitted with worry, while others were overjoyed.
As these figures emerged, the entire Ancestral Temple was enveloped by an imposing majesty.
The Eighth Prince's eyes shifted, a sly look crossing his face. He opened his mouth and said, "Prince Chen, Father, you don't have a single plan."
Another person said, "You happen to share Prince Chen's opinion. Since such a large piece of fat has fallen into Chu's bowl, there naturally is no reason to send it back out. Find a way to keep Lin Bai here."
"That was what he promised. Our imperial clan never agreed!" Before His Highness Chu Tianxin could finish, a Prince Chen coldly interrupted him. "Within the Ancestral Temple, you and the Imperial Ancestor are as close as life and death. That is very good and benefits our efforts