"Someone, come."
His voice had barely faded when a guard pushed open the door and entered.
The guard's footsteps were light, but every step carried the steadiness of a well-trained man.
"Your Highness."
The guard knelt before Xue Qinghe, his forehead touching the floor.
"Take my token and leave the palace. Invite Poison Douluo here for a talk."
Xue Qinghe took the token from his waist and tossed it to the guard.
The token traced an arc through the air, and the guard caught it firmly.
"Yes!"
The guard accepted the token and hurried away.
His figure soon vanished at the end of the corridor.
Watching the guard leave, Xue Qinghe gathered himself and walked toward his study.
His steps were unhurried and steady, and his moon-white brocade robe held a soft sheen beneath the lamplight.
He pushed open the study door, sat behind his desk, and opened an old text at random, but he could not take in a single word.
His gaze rested on the page, though his thoughts had already drifted far away.
An hour later, the guard returned.
Behind him came Dugu Bo, thin of frame, with green hair and beard.
Dugu Bo wore a dark green robe that day, its color complementing his jade-green hair.
His expression was calm, and his cold eyes betrayed no particular emotion.
He entered the study, let his gaze linger on Xue Qinghe's face for a moment, then gave a slight nod in greeting.
"Your Highness summoned me late at night. What is the matter?"
Dugu Bo's voice was hoarse and deep, carrying the composure of a Titled Douluo.
"Calling Poison Douluo here so late is an imposition."
"But the situation is urgent. I cannot stand on ceremony, so I hope Poison Douluo will forgive me."
As he spoke, Xue