Fu Shen said, “After the Jing Chu case, the imperial court will pay more attention to Qiu Ye Bai. I estimate that a decree will soon be issued to prohibit private cultivation of Qiu Ye Bai.”
While the already dispersed cannot be controlled, the technique of making Bai Lu San should still be in the hands of the prince, right?”
Duan Guihong nodded. Fu Shen continued, “If you stop now, I cannot guarantee peace in the world, but if you do not stop, the world will definitely not be at peace. Please consider the weight of your actions, Your Highness.”
Although Bai Lu San had not yet become the most important source of income in the southwest, its potential was promising. Fu Shen did not rush him, merely touching on the subject. They drank all night, with the tipsy West Ping Junwang rambling about the old North Yan army affairs, causing Fu Shen to collapse dizzyingly onto the guest room bed, feeling he had overestimated Duan Guihong’s composure.
As dawn broke, a thunderclap suddenly rang out. Fu Shen, who had been sleeping deeply, felt as if the thunder had struck directly from his ears to his heart, causing him to suddenly open his eyes, his heart inexplicably racing.
April 29th, nightfall in the capital.
The imperial palace was silent as death, with all palaces tightly closed. A few palace maids and eunuchs huddled trembling in the palace wall corners. Only before the Yangxin Hall, lights blazed brightly.
Prince Sun Yunchun, clad in armor, stood with a force composed of the Southern Garrison’s Ten Battalions and the prince’s elite troops, facing off against the Northern Garrison’s forbidden army.
Wei Xushuo, hand on his long knife, glared: “This is a forbidden imperial area. Without an imperial decree, entry is forbidden. Is Your Highness attempting rebellion?”
Sun Yunchun coldly sneered, “A mere guard dog dares to bark before me? Get lost!”
