Song Qingfeng was so frightened by Qin Yi's rebellious words that he felt cold as blood. If these words were to reach the Royal Family, it would be a disaster implicating nine generations.
He picked up the teacup, trying to drink some tea to calm his nerves, but his fingers trembled so much that he couldn't hold the cup steady, causing it to fall to the ground and shatter.
Song Qingfeng was both scared and embarrassed; a mighty practitioner at the Body Integration Realm couldn't even hold two teacups, like someone with muscle weakness—truly disgraceful.
"Qin, Master Qin, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
Qin Yi's lips slightly curled, "Royal power reigns supreme, deep in the people's hearts, firmly rooted. Forget it, I won't say more, but remember, don't stand on the wrong side. At the very least, don't support the Second Prince; he is as good as dead."
Song Qingfeng's throat was dry; he could only swallow a few mouthfuls of saliva with the cup broken.
