Don’t tell me only Cang Moxuan was curious; Lu Qian was just as curious.
Who was the unlucky wretch who cooked this whole thing up?
Ah — wait a moment.
If it hadn’t been Lu Qian who noticed the movements of those black-clad men… if it hadn’t been the Xuan scion who had behind him the favoured, spoiled mother Cang Jiuer…
If it had been anyone else, that black pot would have been placed squarely on someone’s head and welded shut.
At Great Golden Mountain Temple, the heads of over a dozen noble clans of the Xuan‑Yan Court had gathered: the major family patriarchs, and several high ministers who actually held power at court — including Jiang Zheng, the current Heavenly Official of the Tianxing Tribunal.
They were all assembled.
When the heads of those great families learned the thick and thin of the matter they could do nothing but laugh.
This sort of thing… it was neither entirely trivial nor terribly earth‑shaking.
On the one hand, someone was trying to frame Princess Tianwu.
On the other hand, what was it, really, but a frame-up?
For the patriarchs of the great families it was nothing more than an amusing diversion — a play to watch.
After all, this was something their own children desired; cozying up to Princess Tianwu could do no harm, and there was no loss in watching a spectacle.