Zhaoyue Tower.
The doors and windows of the Hanging Flower Hall were wide open, the candlelight swaying.
Lu Shiyan gazed at Lu Ying with a complicated expression.
In his youth, he had never regarded this so-called fourth younger brother, born of the legitimate line, as worthy of notice. Bolstered by the favor of the Emperor and the Empress, he had once called the shots in the Capital, basking in the spotlight, exalted as the center of attention, believing firmly that he would ascend to the highest position.
But reality had dealt him a harsh blow.
