In the Golden Throne Hall, a small number of scholars remained silent.
Among them was Zong Xuan, who had already been listed as temporarily fallen in battle.
"Marshal Zong, why have you not said a word? You have even been frowning so often. Were you frightened by the battle at Yueyang City?"
Given the Zong Family's temperament, if anyone had dared speak to a Zong family member like that, every member of the Zong Family would have risen up to attack them.
But now, not a single person spoke up for Zong Xuan.
Not even Zong Ganyu.
Because ever since that battle, Zong Xuan had seemed like a different person.
Some even suspected that his Literary Guts had been tarnished, or perhaps even cracked.
At first, many people sympathized with him, because this might have been the most devastating defeat in history. The enemy had not sent out a single man, yet their army of three million had been utterly routed.
No one had died in that battle, but that was only because their opponent had been too merciful—and too powerful. Powerful enough to gain absolute victory without killing anyone.
But a few days later, everyone realized that Zong Xuan had changed too much. From time to time, he would say this was wrong with Qing Kingdom and that was wrong with Qing Kingdom, yet he never mentioned Jing Kingdom at all.
Thus, many people were no longer willing to speak with him.
"This old man is a defeated general, temporarily dead. There is nothing to say." In less than a month, Zong Xuan's face had filled with dense wrinkles. His skin had gone from firm beef tendon to minced meat, loose and sagging.
"How is there nothing to say? Not long ago, you said the entire court of civil