Longevity

The old man's face was deeply lined. He wasn't stooped, but his eyes were somewhat dim, as if a corner of shadow had fallen across glazed glass.

The palace guards were not far behind them, and Qiu Ji had left only a short while ago.

Yet this place still belonged to the Great Qi Imperial Palace. Who knew how many powerful figures were stationed here?

Still, Jiang Wang sensed a trace of danger.

It seemed to emanate faintly from the old man, though it wasn't directed at him.

Jiang Wang asked, "Which palace master?"

"Longevity," the old man replied.

Master of Changsheng Palace, Jiang Wuqi!

Why had this prince, "most like His Majesty," suddenly invited him?

Was it because of Zhang Yong? Because he was the Champion of the Yellow River? Because of Jiang Wuyou?

A great many thoughts flashed through Jiang Wang's mind.

He could have refused outright.

He now had the standing to refuse an audience with any prince—even the Eleventh Imperial Prince, once Qi Emperor's favorite.

But he simply nodded. "Since the Eleventh Imperial Prince has invited me, please lead the way, Eunuch."

His few encounters with Jiang Wuqi had not been pleasant, but he held no ill will toward the man himself. If anything, he was rather curious about him.

The old man bowed in acknowledgment, then turned and walked ahead, guiding Jiang Wang a short distance before stopping beside a sedan chair leaning against the palace wall.

"Green Sheep Viscount, please enter the sedan."

As he spoke, he lifted the curtain for Jiang Wang.

Jiang Wang glanced inside. It was indeed lavishly decorated, but entirely empty.

"I thought the Eleventh Imperial Prince was inside," Jiang Wang remarked casually, without entering.

"The palace master is meeting you openly and aboveboard. There is nothing clandestine about it,