But seeing Liu Guangzheng's attitude, the leaders of the various factions present all secretly let out a slight breath of relief.
Their thoughts were probably the same: He was anxious, he was anxious—at last, he was anxious...
They were not afraid of Liu Guangzheng being anxious. What they feared was Liu Guangzheng encountering something like this and still remaining steady as an old dog.
If that were truly the case, it would mean that this young monarch's depths of mind had become terrifyingly inhuman.
Though Liu Guangzheng was restraining himself now, he was burning with rage inside. That was undoubtedly still a human reaction.
What they had staged today was merely a test. It was not as though they truly wanted to weaken sovereign authority and expand the power of the ministers in a single day.
Real shifts in power had always taken place silently, like rain moistening all things.
A few inconspicuous national policies, a few personnel transfers—each one seemed insignificant, but once enough of them accumulated and formed a closed loop, power would have shifted.
The authority under Heaven was finite. It would neither increase nor decrease; it would only constantly change hands and move elsewhere.
That was why the highest goodness was like water. Water's changes were often minute and subtle, yet countless tiny accumulations could ultimately become towering waves.
Over these past years, Liu Guangzheng had performed far too brilliantly and majestically, as though he had truly been granted by Heaven.
Moreover, every step Liu Guangzheng took had been watertight, never giving anyone an opening to seize.
Under such circumstances, the ministers' reverence and fear toward Liu Guangzheng had grown with each passing day.
But directly forcing the palace was the most, most, most foolish thing imaginable. To accomplish something, only fools would think to rely