Yangyang suddenly shouted, startling Yang Chuxia and the others. It turned out that Baili Yan had already put a knife to his own neck. Just as he was about to apply force, Prince Le's eyes slightly widened, and without much thought, he raised his hand and stabbed Baili Yan's wrist with a sword.
"Can't handle losing?" came the sound of the knife hitting the ground with a crisp clang. Baili Han snorted coldly, "Did I tell you to die?"
"Thank goodness." Yangyang, hiding on the hilltop, patted his little chest, "What's wrong with Uncle? You lose, you lose; you can win it back next time."
Yang Chuxia looked down at him and smiled; the child seemed so grown-up. "Your uncle is the Emperor, it's different."
For a ruler to lose, it wouldn't reflect well on him.
Moreover, letting the opponent handle it as he pleases, who knows what Prince Le would make him do? If he were forced to do something improper, he'd lose face entirely. This way was safer.
