As Prince Xue Xing left the imperial study, he came face-to-face with Xue Qinghe, who had hurried over.
"Uncle." Xue Qinghe concealed the impatience in his eyes, put on a polite smile, and bowed.
"My dear nephew, His Majesty has been waiting for you. Hurry inside." Prince Xue Xing smiled, patted his shoulder, and headed out.
He felt a little disappointed that he would not get to watch his elder brother scold his nephew.
Watching him walk away, Xue Qinghe's eyes flashed coldly. If not for Spirit Hall's grand plan, he would have sent that old bastard to his grave with a packet of poison long ago.
He took a deep breath, suppressed his surging murderous intent, straightened his clothes, and entered the imperial study.
Creak.
The instant Xue Qinghe entered the imperial study, the surrounding eunuchs received their orders, withdrew, and closed every door.
Only the father and son remained inside.
Xue Ye rose from his throne, one hand braced on the armrest, his expression thunderous. "Your Highness the Crown Prince, how is the disaster relief in South City progressing?"
"Father, the relief grain has arrived, and all the funds have been disbursed. Everything is proceeding smoothly." Xue Qinghe gave him a general report.
"Everything is proceeding smoothly?" Xue Ye laughed in fury, snatched up a memorial beside him, and hurled it at his head. "Then take a look at this!"
Then he scooped up the mountain of memorials on his desk and flung them all at Xue Qinghe.
The memorials rained down like snowflakes, striking Xue Qinghe's hands, shoulders, and face before clattering across the floor.
"These are all memorials from local officials calling for your impeachment! They say the relief supplies were substandard, the people are seething with resentment, and I must conduct a thorough investigation!"
"And