"Before Helian Mountain left, the message should have been sealed."
"Who will tell me how outsiders found out?"
Chen Yuan spoke, his voice soft, yet the atmosphere in the hall was as silent as a grave, the oppressive atmosphere leaving everyone breathless.
Everyone lowered their heads. Some were completely unaware that the State Preceptor was not at Yunding Mountain and remained passive, staying put. Some knew, like the group of Capital Officials, each clutching their sleeves tightly, their spirits tense, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.
In the front row, Fang La wore a vermillion official robe, which once symbolized power, now felt like heated iron pressed against his body, making his tense spine slightly bent. His head drooped low, and the strands of his hair swayed with his rapid breathing, not daring to look up, his eyelids shut tight, his hands hung by his shoulders, tucked in his sleeves, fingers clenched tightly, knuckles turning white from the strain.
