"Minister Meng, do you have an objection to my maternal grandfather not presenting a tribute to the Emperor?"
Luo Shunchen leaned lazily on a jade chair to one side, his long, slender fingers clasping a golden goblet, slightly tilting the mouth of the cup.
His eyes half-closed, his long eyelashes cast a small fan-shaped shadow, but even this seemingly inadvertent display of indifference made Minister Meng's heart involuntarily sting.
Yet, for the sake of his future, Meng Yanbin still mustered the courage to speak directly to Luo Shunchen, "Seventh Prince, I meant no disrespect; I was merely inquiring whether the Protectorate General had hunted any tribute for the Emperor."
"What does it have to do with you whether he has or hasn't?"
Luo Shunchen's eyes turned cold like an eagle's, and even his voice chilled.
Ji Ruyan saw him getting angry but did not intercede. It was better for her to remain silent on matters of the Imperial Court.
