This was a very common event. When the previous king died, his eldest son would inherit the throne. This had been a tradition inherited by Sox for hundreds of years.
But the storm was about to come, and the night before a storm was always surprisingly quiet.
…
In a house.
A handsome young man with a thin figure and pale face was observing a calligraphy from Hua Cang.
He was obsessed with Huacang's culture.
Such beauty of lines...such artistic conception...for this reason he specially invited a calligrapher from Huacang to be his teacher.
He respects his teacher as much as he respects his own father.
Unfortunately, his father died not long ago.
Soon, a middle-aged man walked in.
"General Meyer, please take a seat."
"Your Highness..."
"Try the tea I made for you first."
…
"Is it delicious?"
Mel's eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s very bitter.”
"Haha, the bitterer the vegetable, the more flavorful it is. Just like life, too much good fortune isn't a good thing..."
"Your Highness is right."
Both sides were silent for dozens of seconds, and it was Mail who opened the door to conversation.
"Your Highness, what do you think of the sudden death of His Majesty and His Highness's announcement of succession?"
Pablo sipped his tea.
"No opinion."
"Your Highness..."
"Don't say any more. As a subject, you should know best what to do."
Mail opened his mouth, but in the end, no words came out, so he had no choice but to retreat.
…
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