Zhao Xu strode down the steps.
Watching Zhao Xu's back recede step by step, Qian Wei did not follow. He wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat.
The morning sun had already risen, spilling its radiance over the world, yet Qian Wei felt cold all over.
The chief grand secretary's words had struck him like a basin of cold water, jolting him out of his anger in an instant.
As chief grand secretary, could Zhao Xu not see that something was suspicious about this case? Could he not see the hidden conflict between the Imperial Grandson and the emperor? Could he not see the look in His Majesty's eyes?
Could he not know that someone had used him?
But the founding emperor had drawn his three-foot sword and risked death in a hundred battles to establish this realm and create this peace. Now the emperor was old, while the Imperial Grandson was like the rising sun. With His Majesty taking one measure after another against him at such a time, would everyone not see it as absurd, the work of a muddled old man?
If they only obeyed and did nothing to stop him, what would become of His Majesty's good name after his death?
And what plight would that bring upon the realm?
The road was long and fraught with obstacles; a scholar must be broad-minded and resolute. Could it be... that I was the one in the wrong?
Outside the palace gates, Su Ziji emerged and headed straight for his ox cart.
A guard lifted the curtain for him. Once he climbed inside, the cloth curtain fell, and the ox cart turned around and slowly began its journey home.
Two men sat inside the cart: Wild Daoist and Wen Xunpeng.
Wild Daoist handed him