The voice belonged to Shang Xingzhou.
'Don't let the capital see, don't let the world see, don't let him see'…but what if he was seen?
Everyone knew that the unspoken consequence was undoubtedly related to death.
Chen Changsheng said nothing, only gazed at the snow falling in the night, his eyes bright and calm.
He also had a few words in his heart, and they were undoubtedly related to his return.
……
……
Tonight's snow did not intensify, nor did its power lessen. The uncountable number of cavalry surrounding the Orthodox Academy were still warily facing off against each other.
Shang Xingzhou returned to the Imperial Palace. Those blue-clothed Daoists reverentially bowed to him, then took their leave.
He stood in the snow, gazing at the silhouette of the young emperor cast upon the window by the light, feeling a sense of gratification.
Everything had been worth it.
