"Still endless."
"Still—Undying!!!"
"Undying!"
Grand Protector Yan looked at Ji Zichang with utmost sincerity, Ji Yanzhong also looked at him, the candlelight on the table suddenly flickered, casting shadows around, over Grand Protector Yan, and Ji Yanzhong, as if shrouded in a layer of shadow, the shadow descended like threads, merging with the world.
Ji Zichang turned his head, looking outside the hall doors.
As he stood high above and looked down, he saw the carriages and horses like dragons, lights like daylight, accentuating the night scene, yet there was a sense of dimness felt, in this dimness, those treacherous ministers, traitors.
The loyal ministers before him, the virtuous generals.
It seemed like there was a gold-red thread appearing on them, swaying in the fire, the thread spread upwards, ultimately hidden within the shadow, and the twisted Qi Fortune of the [Eight Hundred Years of the Red Emperor] dynasty held firmly in the claws.
In a trance.
