"What are we to do?!"
Chengdu, inside the imperial palace.
Liu Shan's round face had gone deathly pale with fright. His eyes were vacant, and his whole body trembled.
At last, he no longer had any mind for pleasure or play.
When news of Zhuge Zhan's death in battle reached Chengdu, Liu Shan felt as though he had been struck by lightning. He froze outright.
He had placed great hopes in Zhuge Zhan, believing that once he stepped forward, he would surely resolve their predicament. But now he, too, had died in battle.
In his terror, Liu Shan could not speak for a long time. Only when Huang Hao stepped forward and called loudly to him did his soul return to his body.
Once he came back to his senses, the first thing Liu Shan wanted to do was summon his ministers to discuss their next move.
Huang Hao was not in particularly good shape himself.
He had no power of his own. He and Liu Shan shared glory and ruin alike; all his authority came from the emperor. Every minister could betray Liu Shan, but he alone could not betray the emperor.
Even if Deng Ai fought his way in, the ministers could surrender. But what about him?
Would the Wei people care about a eunuch who surrendered?
He could only remain at the emperor's side.
And after seeing Jiang Wei defeated and Zhuge Zhan killed, Huang Hao had completely despaired of the fighting to come.
Victory was impossible.
Huang Hao understood their current circumstances even more clearly than the ministers at court.
Jiang Wei had been battered senseless, and Yan Yu in the east could not hold out much longer either. Yan Yu was one of Huang Hao's own men, and he had told him more than once