Chapter 172 Book 4 Hostage
The grand hall of Qinglan's palace was suffocating with the tension of power. The towering pillars, adorned with golden dragon carvings, cast long shadows over the assembly of ministers and nobles. Their murmurs, a mixture of feigned concern and undisguised anticipation, filled the room like the whispers of carrion birds circling their prey.
At the heart of the hall, sitting upon his ornate throne, was King Hao. A man whose ambition burned as fiercely as the torchlight flickering along the walls. He wore the imperial robe of Qinglan, the embroidery of golden threads signifying the absolute authority he wielded over the state.
