The Qianyuan Hall was in complete chaos.
The Emperor's face was utterly solemn. He could already feel the gaze cast over from behind the curtain behind him, a gaze that pressed heavily on his shoulders.
He seemed to hear a silent reproach: you can't even handle something this small—what face have you to rule personally?
His hand hidden in his sleeve clutched the armrest of the dragon throne in a death grip as he considered how to clean up the mess of tonight's affair.
Just now, first the meritorious scions who had fallen in the Merit Pavilion failed to return; then even the images on the screens vanished. Naturally, this had caused immense panic.
The scene had immediately fallen into utter disorder.
Over at the Heavenly Master Mansion, it seemed a great upheaval had also occurred. The Heavenly Master's Yang Spirit had left his body; no one knew where he had gone.
