The General of the Guards' Residence.
At some point, the residence had become deserted.
The bustle of the past was gone.
Those who had once been eager to establish friendly ties with the Sima Family were now desperate to distance themselves from them.
After the Sima Zhao incident, not a single person had even come to pay their respects.
The entire Sima Family now faced a reckoning, unable even to protect themselves. The situation had reached its most perilous point.
Armored guards stood watch throughout the residence. Even though Sima Zhao was dead, they showed no intention of leaving.
Within that silent residence, one man knelt quietly in the hall.
He had very long hair and long hands, but his face looked haggard, with sparse stubble growing on either side of his lips.
His eyes were vacant as he knelt on the icy floor.
Above him stood Sima Zhao's spirit tablet.
There was no one around him.
Sima Yan's grief at that moment defied words.
He had lost so much.
Just as in history, he had been forced onto the opposite side from his own close friend.
Ever since Lady Wang had told him the truth, Sima Yan had harbored an anguish he could not express.
He had reached the age when he could take part in his family's important affairs, yet those affairs were not so easy to speak of.
Besides, his close friend stood on the other side.
Sima Yan longed to win merit and establish himself. He, too, wanted to accomplish something great.
But he also hoped that when he achieved fame and success, he could enjoy it with his close friends and let them witness his success.
Yet no one cared what Sima Yan actually thought.
His fate seemed to have been fixed from the moment