Gangzi Got Slapped in the Face

"Teacher, let's return to the teahouse. We still need to discuss Tang San and Spirit Hall properly."

Watching Tang San's retreating figure gradually disappear, the smile on Xue Qinghe's face slowly faded, and his gaze deepened.

"Mm!"

Ning Fengzhi nodded, a trace of complexity flashing through his eyes.

The two returned side by side and entered the quaint private room.

The celadon tea set on the table gleamed with a warm luster, understated yet elegant—a world apart from the bustle of the front hall.

"Cede three cities today, five tomorrow, all for one night of peaceful sleep—does Father truly not understand that feeding flesh to a tiger only treats the symptoms, not the root cause?"

Xue Qinghe's entire presence abruptly changed.

The gentle warmth he had displayed earlier vanished completely, replaced by the cold severity and oppressive aura of one in high authority.

"Qinghe, though Xue Ye is old, he is still in good health. He can hold on for a few more years."

A faint smile rested on Ning Fengzhi's lips, though his tone carried a hint of reassurance.

"Teacher, I cannot wait any longer."

A nearly imperceptible killing intent colored Xue Qinghe's words.

"You are already completely certain? You must understand that once something like this goes even one step wrong, there will be no turning back."

Ning Fengzhi raised his eyes to look at him, his expression growing solemn.

"Teacher, rest assured. Qinghe has his own plans."

A cold arc curved across Xue Qinghe's lips, icy light surging in his eyes.

As the Heaven Dou Crown Prince, he had handled state affairs in Xue Ye's stead for many years. Every word in those memorials piled upon his desk spoke of the empire's deep-seated maladies.

The common people's livelihoods were squeezed dry layer by layer, while even the