Imperial Palace.
Chengqian Hall.
At this moment, the atmosphere in Chengqian Palace was tense as a drawn bowstring, with a murderous intent on the verge of breaking out.
Shen Xiao's face was livid as he was about to speak, but suddenly a frivolous laugh came from above the palace walls.
"Hold on."
Everyone turned to look and saw the Heir of Beicang King walking slowly forward, passing by his father's side, looking down at Ji Minghao on the steps.
His face was handsome, yet at this moment carried an irreverent playfulness, his gaze swept over Ji Minghao and Shen Mengyun, finally fixing on Ji Minghao's face.
"Eighth Prince," the Heir's voice was clear but carried an undeniable tone, "actually, there's room for maneuver in this matter."
Ji Minghao's brows furrowed, and he said solemnly, "What do you mean, Heir?"
The Heir of Beicang King smiled slightly, his gaze swept past the dense mass of soldiers below, finally landing back on Ji Minghao.
