The voice in the painting was clearly struggling to hold back.
It sounded unsteady, as if scorched by rage. "Is Hanging Temple really going to make an enemy of Great Jing? Have you asked your abbot what he thinks?"
Kujue glared. "This is a private matter between my good disciple, Zhao Xuanyang, and me. What does Hanging Temple have to do with it? Let me ask you this: I'm going to save my disciple. Do you intend to make an enemy of me, Kujue?"
The voice in the painting held back its anger. "I have always respected Hanging Temple. When two sides are involved, every move carries the weight of a thousand jun. This isn't something you can decide with a single word. You'd better ask your abbot!"
Clearly, the speaker knew full well that Hanging Temple would never make a great show of force over one Jiang Wang. Kujue's crossing into Jing today was probably just his own personal decision.
And judging him as an individual, what did Kujue matter to Jing Kingdom, even if he was a Current Era True Lord?
But regardless of that, Kujue's status meant Hanging Temple could not be ignored.
The speaker could only invoke Hanging Temple to remind Kujue to come to his senses.
Kujue shouted, "I'm not asking!"
The voice in the painting was momentarily at a loss for words.
At his level, in his position, how often had he ever encountered a conversation like this, with a child throwing a tantrum?
People usually exchanged a few words, and each carried endless implications. They spoke in veiled terms, and everyone understood.
If they wanted to throw their weight around and tear off the mask, they usually did so only after weighing the pros and cons and thinking it through.
They were all