Silence filled the carriage.
Ouyang felt as though he were meeting this little brother, who had trailed behind him since childhood, for the first time.
His little brother was actually a prince-and the sole surviving prince, at that.
Barring any surprises, once the old emperor finally croaked, his little brother would be the legitimate heir to the throne!
Why bother cultivating immortality? Wouldn't coming back to be emperor be a sweet life?
But in this world, the throne held considerably less appeal than cultivating immortality.
Even the most exalted emperor in the mortal world would live no more than a hundred years, falling far short of cultivators who roamed free and unfettered.
His little brother in the carriage seemed to sink into silence. Many things had already grown hazy in his memory. He had only been three then. His parents had been killed for rebelling, and after drifting to Maple Leaf City, he had met his elder brother.
He had gone from standing beneath only one man to living on the streets. Had his elder brother not taken him along to scrape out a living in Maple Leaf City, he would probably have died when the first snow fell that year.
So many years had passed in a flash, and now his so-called grandfather, the very man who had murdered his parents, had suddenly come to tell him he wanted to enjoy the pleasures of family.
Although his memories of his parents were mostly cold palace walls and impatient voices, they were still his birth parents.
Even if Leng Qingsong were a fool, he knew that old bastard in the imperial city had to be plotting something!
A man who could kill even his own son to secure his throne-how could he possibly be asking Leng Qingsong to inherit it