He clutched the wine jar tightly, as if it were his own life, and everyone cherishes their life—he was no exception. In truth, having reached this age, he had no regrets left, but there were still so many things he had not yet done. He was well aware that he could not fall; if he did, the Wang Family would topple too. And if the Wang Family fell, who knew how many others would be dragged down with them.
Don't think he was unaware of just how many people in Beijing were sticking pins into effigies of him.
Hmph, he simply wouldn't die, much to the frustration of those tortoises and the anger of those bastards.
"And there's..." He pointed at Tang Zhinian, who stood there dumbly.
"Little girl, who is that?"
"That's my dad."
Yuxin ran over to Zhinian and grabbed his arm, "Your Grace, look, don't I look a lot like my dad?"
"Like hell you do?"
