"What is happening here?"
The deep, powerful voice cut through the air like a blade.
Instantly, the chamber fell into dead silence.
The guards who had been restraining Hua Jing froze. The consorts who had been watching with smug satisfaction stiffened. The officials who had been murmuring among themselves whipped their heads around in disbelief.
Standing at the entrance, tall, commanding, and furious, was Crown Prince Zhao Yan.
His ceremonial red and gold robes, once pristine, now looked disheveled, his shoulders slightly slumped as if he had rushed here without a second thought. His golden mask, always an unreadable shield, glowed ominously under the dim light.
But what chilled everyone to the bone—
Was the rage radiating from him.
It was thick, suffocating, all-consuming.
Like a storm, swirling wildly, uncontrollably.
The Emperor, who had been observing the scene from his seat, let out an audible gasp.
