Ren Yingying listened in secret alarm. Though the voice was aged, it carried an innate, domineering air of looking down upon all beneath it. And the people he mentioned—Murong Huang, Murong Ke, Murong Chui, Murong De—were all renowned figures from history. Just who was this man?
She glanced toward Huang Rong and saw the same meaning in her eyes. But she did not know that Huang Rong was even more shocked, for she had recognized the man as the one who had abducted her back then.
Song Qingshu seemed to have grasped something. To confirm his suspicion, he carefully lifted a roof tile, allowing the three of them to see what was happening inside.
Murong Fu stood in the room with his hair disheveled. Before him stood a masked old man, proud and upright, while a dagger lay on the floor nearby. The three on the roof had not witnessed what had happened, but they could more or less guess. Murong Fu had likely lost the Contest for Command, returned in a moment of despair, and tried to take his own life, only to be saved by the masked elder.
The four men named by the masked elder were all illustrious rulers and famed kings of Yan State in years past. Their might had shaken the world, and they had built great and glorious achievements. They were Murong Fu's ancestors. Dazed and furious, Murong Fu suddenly heard the names of those four forebears, and it was as though a basin of cold water had been poured over his head. *Father had repeatedly instructed me to make restoring Great Yan the purpose of my life. Yet today, in a moment of anger, I tried to end my own life. The Xianbei Murong clan would have died out with me. I do