But he had already begun to fear.
He feared the news coming back, feared it would confirm Zhuang Mohan's words, feared that all his years of effort had merely been spent sewing another person's wedding robes.
While the Crown Prince was lost in thought, a commotion arose at the entrance to the hall.
Fan Xian had arrived.
Dressed in ordinary robes, he strode inside with a calm expression.
The moment Fan Xian appeared, before anyone else could react, Guo Baokun jumped out, dressed in proper official robes.
Guo Baokun blocked Fan Xian's path, his finger almost jabbing the tip of his nose:
"You scoundrel! You escaped punishment after attacking and injuring me that day! Here today, I'll watch you fall beyond all redemption! Your name will be ruined!"
His voice, laden with resentment, echoed through the hall.
The assembled guests turned to look, whispers rising everywhere.
Fan Xian looked at the face before him, first filled with grief and fury, then with gloating delight. His brows creased slightly, and he was about to speak-
"Baokun! Hold your tongue!"
An authoritative voice came from behind.
Guo Youzhi, the Minister of Rites, strode forward and pulled Guo Baokun behind him, then cupped his hands toward Fan Xian in apology:
"Young Lord Fan, my son has behaved disgracefully. Please forgive him!"
Fan Xian looked at the Minister of Rites, his gaze passing over father and son, and smiled.
"You're too kind, Lord Guo. Your son is... well, mischievous and endearing. I'm not angry at all."
Guo Baokun wanted to say more, but a glare from Guo Youzhi silenced him, leaving him no choice but to shut his mouth resentfully.
At his seat, the Crown Prince watched the scene in silence.
His gaze fell on Guo Baokun. Beneath his sleeves, his hands clenched so