Yan Capital, Qianyuan Hall.
A faint scent of ambergris wafted through the hall, elusive and pervasive.
A beam of flickering sunlight fell on half of Rong Jing's strikingly beautiful face, casting a warm glow, while the other half remained shrouded in darkness, his expression inscrutable.
With his eyes half-closed, he recalled that towering figure.
Ridiculous,
That person always claimed to be the eldest brother, always claimed to protect these younger brothers and sisters, maintaining a cold and unfeeling face from childhood to adulthood.
And now, dead...
Beside him stood Zhang Fengcai and Rong Miaoyan.
Zhang Fengcai finished reading the "final letter" presented by Xie Yun from Prince Rui, and sobbed:
"Your Majesty, Prince Rui, only said these things."
Rong Jing snorted, suppressing his anger, his eyes narrowed, his voice deep and husky:
