Shang Xingzhou was not able to walk out of the Imperial Palace.
His will was like a torrential flood on the verge of overflowing out of the capital and drowning the entire world, wanting to swallow up Chen Changsheng and leave nothing behind.
Right now, someone stood before him.
The Pope was still in the Li Palace, Wang Po was still sitting by the table, Xu Yourong was at South Stream Temple, the young women of South Stream Temple had been barred within the Orthodox Academy by Priest Xin, Tang Thirty-Six was in Wenshui, and Zhexiu had vanished.
The person who stood up was completely unexpected, but when carefully considered, also someone who should have been expected to stand up.
Yu Ren stood in the wind and snow, the eunuchs and maids around him kneeling on the ground.
For the first time, the young emperor defied the wishes of his teachers and ministers and appeared at a certain place.
It was a place that he had chosen for himself.
