"My friend merely did not recognize the Heir and unintentionally offended, yet the Heir severed his arm. I hope the Heir will show mercy."
"I, Lu, am very grateful!"
Inside the pavilion, under the lamplight, shadows of several figures could be seen.
Some were kneeling, appearing like servants; one was standing, with a graceful figure, seemingly a woman; another had a broad physique, sitting with a cup in hand.
It should be the yet-to-be-installed Heir of Beiliang!
The person inside raised the cup, glanced at it, and spoke with a slightly cold arrogance,
"Lu Yuanjun, you certainly think too highly of yourself."
"If your so-called friend is an assassin from the Western Regions, sent to kill the Heir, can you bear that responsibility?"
"Our Beiliang has fought against the Western Regions for years; there's no guarantee that these Hu People aren't spies from enemy nations."
