Qing Chen knew perfectly well that he had indeed caused quite a stir over the years, but how vast was Great Jin?
In Emperor Jingtai's eyes, was he really worth summoning in such haste the moment he entered the capital, without even letting him step through his own gates?
What exactly was that old emperor thinking?
For all Qing Chen's countless schemes and stratagems, he could not fathom what the old man valued in him.
Was it his background with the Origin-Initial Devil Sect?
Or his ties to the Iron Household? Or did the emperor know he had a connection to the Eighth Prince?
Or was it the matter of the Moon-Worshipping Divine Cult and the Nine Netherworlds Forbidden Grounds?
But did any of these really matter to the Son of Heaven of Great Jin?
Qing Chen quickly dismissed these thoughts again. "Assistant Director Wei, please lead the way."
Wei Jin's smile remained unchanged as he turned sideways and raised a hand. "Marquis, please board the palace carriage."
The black palace carriage with golden patterns had long since stopped on the Cloud Path. Two jade-antlered Heavenly Deer held their heads low, faint golden markings growing along their antlers. Their four hooves rested upon the clouds, where white lotus patterns actually blossomed one after another.
The palace carriage was not large, but every part of its body exuded the refinement and majesty of palace standard-issue craftsmanship.
Its curtain was woven from dark golden silk, with tiny dragon bells hanging from its corners. When the wind passed, no bells rang; only rings of the extremely faint Spirit Wave Suppressing the Gods spread outward.
After Qing Chen boarded, the curtain fell.
Outside, Wei Jin gave a low command, and the palace procession immediately rose into the air.
Golden-armored imperial guards led the way,