The Great Court Conference

In the early hours of the morning, Fan Xian returned home and changed his clothing. He gave a few orders and took the carriage to the Royal Palace. When he arrived, it was already very lively outside the Palace gates. Officials gathered groups of two and three and were all whispering to each other about something.

He lifted the curtain to glance out and couldn't resist shaking his head. It looked like last night's events were already gossip. Naturally, he was at the heart of the officials' discussions.

After a night without sleep and having dealt with so many things, his spirit was lacking. He accepted a towel soaked in ice water from Teng Zijing's hand and rubbed it vigorously over his face. The skin on his face felt like it was being pierced by needles, but his spirit was finally roused a little. He yawned and stretched. After breathing out some muddied air, he disembarked from the carriage.