Every civil and military official who had come to court today had seen him, yet it seemed as if no one had seen him.
No one greeted him, no one spared him a second glance.
Some were concerned, some expectant, some anxious, and some secretly pleased... but all were silent.
The man kneeling there was the Eleventh Prince of Daqi, Palace Master Jiang Wuqi of the Long Life Palace.
Only after shedding the fox fur that had wrapped him for years did they realize how truly thin he was.
On his bare back, his vertebrae were nearly fully exposed to the air, conjuring only one term in people's minds—gaunt.
"Cough, cough, cough, cough."
In the vast square, such silence today, no whispers to be heard. Only his occasional cough that could not be stifled and the slightly cold wind of the early morning.
Such a lonely cough.
Inside the Purple Pole Hall, it seemed as if everything was as usual.
The affairs were presented, the arguments were made. But there was always... something missing.
