The Crown Prince nodded, seemingly somewhat regretful.
Though he had failed to help, he felt he had at least struck the right attitude and should have earned some goodwill from Fan Xian. That gave him a little comfort.
The Crown Prince also took a pot of golden chrysanthemums from a guard and cradled it in his arms.
Seeing this, Fan Xian stepped forward.
"Here, give me two pots!"
Fan Xian called to the guards and took two pots of golden chrysanthemums, balancing one in each hand.
He muttered inwardly that Emperor Qing had only told him to carry the chrysanthemums up, not that he could only take one pot at a time.
The Hanging Temple stood on perilous terrain, with rugged paths. Even he would struggle with running up and down a dozen or more times.
Taking two pots at once would halve the trips and double his efficiency!
If not for the risk of damaging the flowers' appearance by stacking too many together, he would not have minded carrying eight or ten pots up at once, given his abilities.
Once the three had their chrysanthemums in their arms, Gong Dian moved ahead to lead the way, and the party formally entered the mountain gate.
The Hanging Temple hung alone in the mountains, backed against sheer cliffs, with only one path leading up.
The four walked along the cliffside walkway. Gong Dian led the way, explaining the origins of the Hanging Temple as he went.
Of course, his explanation was mainly for Fan Xian, who was the only one visiting for the first time.
After rounding several bends, they had climbed considerably higher. The wind along the cliffs became more noticeable, setting their robes fluttering.
The clinking of chains came from the distance, at once clear and dull.
Before long,