"Doubt... No, not really..."
Though Lin Feng looked young and was no match for him, the mysterious Literary Scholar couldn't help feeling wary. She was splattered with blood from head to toe and still chatted and laughed as if nothing were wrong; with the surroundings adding to the effect, she was rather intimidating. Tsk, he really was getting more cowardly with age...
He'd actually let an inexperienced youngster scare him.
But—
The mysterious Literary Scholar glanced at the head in Lin Feng's hand and asked, "The young master just called this person..."
He suspected his ears had deceived him.
"The Twelfth Prince of the Ten Crows."
Lin Feng lifted the head and examined it closely. He had to admit, the man looked much more agreeable dead than alive.
The mysterious Literary Scholar: "..."
He gaped at the bombshell that had exploded out of nowhere.
"...The Twelfth Prince of the Ten Crows? Isn't he the Great Queen Mother's own son?" The old man felt his heart might not take much more. He owed Yan Xingning his life, and had accepted a request from him to come to the Ten Crows and take care of a few matters, helping him lay plans and tie up loose ends.
He had to admit, Yan Xingning was playing a grand game.
The main goal was to sow discord among the Ten Crows and buy precious time. As it happened, the Great King's princes were coming of age one after another, taking part in state affairs and growing ambitious. Their interests ran counter to those of the Great Queen Mother's faction, which controlled nearly half the Ten Crows' troops.
A bloody clash between them was inevitable.
With no heir apparent chosen, this was the perfect opportunity.
To that end, the mysterious Literary Scholar had gone to