Atop Zhaoyang Gate, Lu Zhenyan stared at the woman in the Phoenix Robe, floating in midair like a deity. His body suddenly staggered, and he stumbled several steps backward.
If not for the swift reaction of Shi Weizhen, Minister of Works, who braced him from behind with his shoulder, this second-ranking Grand Secretary would probably have fallen hard on his backside before the eyes of everyone present.
Seeing Lu Zhenyan's ashen face and hollow gaze, as though he had aged more than a decade in an instant, Shi Weizhen could not help asking in a concerned undertone:
"Grand Secretary, the situation has reversed, and this should be cause for great celebration. What troubles you?"
Lu Zhenyan struggled to steady himself. His voice was dry and hoarse, carrying a trace of indescribable daze:
"Mingyuan, have you ever seen a colony of ants toil without rest, not daring to stop, finally managing to build their nest into something resembling a proper home?"
"Only for some mischievous child to arrive at that very moment with a kettle of boiling water, laughing as he pours it all into the tiny entrance of the anthill..."
At first, Shi Weizhen was bewildered by Lu Zhenyan's disjointed story.
But he was, after all, an exceptional scholar who had fought his way through countless competitors in the imperial examinations. His mind was keen and crystal-clear. After a brief moment of thought, he vaguely understood the deep despair and helplessness hidden in Lu Zhenyan's words.
His throat bobbed. He lowered his voice to a near whisper, uncertainty and alarm mingling within it.
"Do you mean... could this be... if she follows Zhao Mu's precedent..."
The "Zhao Mu precedent" he referred to was the Empress of the Great Yan Dynasty more than a thousand years ago, a woman of the