"You rebellious son!"
Meanwhile, in the imperial palace of Xianyang City, the morning quiet was shattered by Zhou Xu's roar.
Inside the bedchamber, Zhou Xu, sporting a bird's-nest of hair, glared irritably at Xuan Yu, who had already flown to a nearby perch and was pretending to preen his feathers.
He had had that dream again—a dream of that sun, with a figure within it seeming to say something to him.
Just as he was about to hear it clearly, that rebellious son had smothered him awake.
The Elf Knights standing guard outside the bedchamber had long since grown accustomed to this.
They had no idea why Xuan Yu loved landing on their emperor's face or head. Sometimes, he would even suddenly launch an assassination attempt that bordered on outright treason, leaving Zhou Xu fuming.
On one occasion, he had simply barred Xuan Yu from his bedchamber and moved its perch to a side hall.
But the little bastard knew how to play the victim. Come rain or shine, it refused to go anywhere, obediently remaining outside the bedchamber window and staring at him with a pair of round, inky eyes. It had left Zhou Xu utterly speechless.
But in all honesty, after all this time, he had grown accustomed to the rebellious son's daily acts of treason.
He still roared and cursed, but in truth, he was no longer that angry.
By now, it had become more like a habitual routine. If he did not shout at it once, he always felt that something was missing when he got up in the morning.
It was only five-thirty in the morning. Zhou Xu changed into his training clothes and went outside the hall to practice health-preserving Tai Chi Quan as usual. He did this almost every day.
It was worth