After relief came lingering fear, and then a sense of grievance.
If you were a Grandmaster, you should have said so sooner!
Taiji Hall fell deathly silent.
In contrast, the cries of battle outside became exceptionally clear, drawing closer and closer.
Led by Qin Ye, the garrison swept forward like a blade splitting bamboo. The Imperial Guards had already retreated to the square before Taiji Hall, where they fought desperately in the snow to resist the garrison's assault.
The clash of blades and screams sounded especially piercing amid the wind and snow. Blood stained and melted the thick snow on the square, spreading into shocking patches.
Outnumbered, the Imperial Guards fought as they retreated.
Suddenly, an arrow flew into Taiji Hall, nearly striking an official in the back row.
"Enough! Stop!"
A rolling, thunderous voice rang out from Taiji Hall, like the words of a heavenly god, drowning out every other sound between heaven and earth.
The soldiers locked in fierce combat on both sides froze as one.
Their faces still bore the savage expressions of men fighting for their lives. They did not know where the voice had come from; they merely dared not defy its authority out of instinct.
Zhou Cheng descended the Palace Steps one step at a time and crossed Taiji Hall.
Wherever he passed, the officials knelt and drew back like a receding tide, clearing a broad path.
No one dared raise their head. No one dared speak. Even their breathing grew as faint as possible.
Only after Zhou Cheng stepped through the doors did they dare cautiously steal glances at his tall, straight back.
Wind and snow swept into his face, melting into tiny, icy droplets that brought a trace of chill. Yet those droplets did not linger on him for even an instant