Some meetings are meant to be forgotten

Prime Minister's Manor

The grand halls of Prime Minister Feng Wehao's manor were as stately as Xu Liangchen remembered—elegant yet imposing, a reflection of the man who resided within. The faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, blending with the hushed murmurs of servants moving discreetly through the corridors.

As Xu Liangchen stepped inside, his sharp gaze swept over the familiar surroundings, taking in every detail with quiet calculation. Before he could proceed further, Advisor Zhang Zhongyuan approached, bowing respectfully.

"General Xu, Prime Minister Feng is awaiting you in the main hall," Zhang Zhongyuan said, his tone measured.

Without a word, Xu Liangchen followed him, his steady footsteps echoing against the polished floors.