The Pitiful Nalan Zhangqian III

As soon as he said that, the other ministers fell to their knees in fear.

"Your Majesty, that won't do!"

"This is the Feng family's country, you mustn't relinquish it."

Feng Tianyu's gaze turned cold as he looked down sharply at the ministers in front of him. "This is between me and the general, you lot shall have no say."

Nalan Zhangqian was already stunned the moment he heard Feng Tianyu's earlier words.

A moment had passed before he regained his senses. He then rushed toward a guard, drew out the guard's sword, and held it to his own neck.

"Feng Tianyu, you're driving me over the edge! If you want to make me an emperor, I'll just die! I'd rather die than take up this position! Don't you try to force my hand! If you insist, just try and drag me from the depths of hell, I dare you!"

This group of bastards had been suppressing him for a year and now, they wanted to throw the responsibility of sitting on the throne to him?

Hah!