Capital City, the royal court.
A man with graying hair and beard, yet still possessing a burly frame, lounged on a throne draped in Great Insect hide. Below him stood all his ministers and sons, who were currently arguing fiercely over the same matter. He drank fine wine while one arm wrapped around the most voluptuous of the horse slaves. His eyes, though narrowed to slits, still gleamed sharply as he surveyed every face below.
Su Shi Yilu held immense power and authority and stood at the very front, his face ashen and both fists clenched tight.
The other ministers and nobles looked ready to roll up their sleeves or draw their broadswords and fight over the matter. The entire royal court was in uproar.
"Pfft—"
Having watched enough of the spectacle, the King suddenly sneered.
His voice was not loud, but it was enough to make the ministers turn their attention toward him. Everyone hastily and fearfully begged forgiveness.
The King said, "Why have you stopped arguing?"
No one dared make a sound.
Although the King above them had entered his twilight years, his sturdy, powerful body had lost its former magnificence after several years of wine and sensual pleasures, and his temperament had gradually strayed from his original ambitions, his lingering authority remained. Before he completely fell, no one dared challenge his power.
A single offhand remark was enough to silence everyone.
The King asked, "Did you reach a conclusion?"
No one dared be the first bird to stick its head out.
The King's gaze swept over his eleven sons one by one.
They were all his grown sons.
Each had his own temperament, and each had his own ambitions.
As for the Twelfth Prince, the son of the Queen Mother, he was still traveling abroad. According to