At this moment, he suddenly felt that maybe Huan Xingzi was right, perhaps the ancient mission that had lasted for nearly a thousand years had come to an end. And before them, within the Bright Mirror, all was obscured by black fog, the very power that belonged to Xu Fu.
Atop the grand hall, Ying Xi, rejuvenated to his younger self, was brimming with confidence, feeling as though the whole world was within his grasp. A smug smile hung on his face as he looked down upon the trembling ministers kneeling on the ground.
And these high officials, usually so lofty and above all others, were now drenched in sweat. Everything that had occurred in the grand hall transcended their understanding: fratricide and patricide, such tragic betrayals of kinship unfolding brutally before everyone, exposing the deepest wickedness of human nature.
