Whatever thoughts Gong Dian had, he naturally dared not say anything to Zhou Cheng, but Fan Xian was much bolder.
With a dark expression, he said to Zhou Cheng, "Your Highness, that joke went a little too far! That shove of yours cost me two pots of chrysanthemums. If the Crown Prince had fallen, I would have had to pay with my life!"
Zhou Cheng glanced sideways at him. "How could the Crown Prince fall so easily? I knew what I was doing. Even if he really had fallen, he wouldn't have come to harm so easily!"
You knew what you were doing, my ass!
Fan Xian's eyes widened. He was just about to say that Zhou Cheng could talk so lightly because he wasn't the one bearing the consequences, when he saw Gong Dian step forward, his gaze fixed on the spot where the Crown Prince had nearly fallen over.
Fan Xian paused and followed Gong Dian's gaze. His pupils immediately contracted.
There were two clear handprints on the railing, which had been made from carefully selected, high-quality red pine.
The handprints were about an inch deep, each finger distinct. Even the patterns on the fingertips were faintly discernible, embedded deep in the hard wood.
Fan Xian blinked hard.
The entire railing was made of red pine, a hard wood that would take an ordinary person considerable effort even to chop with a knife.
He could certainly have left such marks himself. But who was he? He was a martial arts prodigy of unparalleled talent, a ninth-rank master.
And who had left these marks before him?
The Crown Prince, who was rumored to know nothing of martial arts!
To leave such marks in red pine required, at the very least, the ability to project true qi beyond the body.