Gazing at Chen Zhuo amid the blossoming flowers, a cold glint flashed in his eyes, but he said nothing, breaking away from the crowd and heading directly towards the palace's exit.
Leaving the Imperial Palace, he arrived beside a soft sedan chair by the street.
"Master."
The attendant bowed in greeting and reached out to open the sedan door.
Zhuang Jingming lifted his leg to step inside, where Jiang Wangye had long been waiting, dressed in pure white without a speck of dust, leaning back in the chair, toying with a teacup in his hand.
Zhuang Jingming, long accustomed to this, sat across from him, lifted the hot tea from the table, and drank it down in one gulp.
"Judging from Mr. Zhuang's expression, it seems the situation isn't good?" Jiang Wangye raised an eyebrow slightly, scrutinizing him.
