Special!
Very special!
But—
There were always people who couldn't help muttering to themselves.
That scoundrel Zheng Qiao didn't even care about his own father. There were even rumors going around Geng Country that when the old Sovereign of Geng was bedridden with a stroke, Zheng Qiao had used the opportunity to care for him to secretly conspire with the old Sovereign's Queen—now the Queen Dowager—and kill him.
No one in the streets doubted the rumor was true.
There was no other reason: every transfer of power in Geng Country cost a "father."
An old tradition, an old craft!
If he could treat his own father that way, why would he care about his master?
Besides, Yan Xingning was only his master's son.
The so-called fellow disciples were hardly close.
The outside world buzzed with speculation, but none of it reached Zheng Qiao's palace.
Elsewhere, a young eunuch led Yan An through a maze of twists and turns until they finally reached an elegant garden, lavishly decorated and picturesque at every step.
The stone table in the octagonal pavilion had been carved from jade.
Yan An had barely sat down when another young eunuch brought out delicate pastries and a pot of fragrant floral tea. Yan An glanced at them casually and recognized his favorite pastries. Even the tea was at just the right temperature—not too hot, not too cold, exactly as it had always been.
Yan An lowered his eyes and began to enjoy them at an unhurried pace.
Only after he had finished half a cup of tea did familiar footsteps sound behind him. He rose to pay his respects, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zheng Qiao wave a hand and say, "Xingning, there's no need for so much ceremony between us."
Yan