Just outside the capital, in the humble Tea Pavilion.
The Old Taoist carried his wine gourd, his drunken eyes staring intently at Uncle Qin, a hint of smile flickering across his reddened face.
"If you can come, why can't I?" Uncle Qin replied indifferently, "The boy you've raised, but his fate belongs to him alone."
"Old Man Qin, what nonsense are you talking about?" The Old Taoist laughed coldly.
"Primordial King Ceremony, as long as he takes the final step, it would be an immeasurable achievement, following in the footsteps of his father."
Old Man Qin's withered hand rested on the table, his eyes radiating a cold light.
"Zhou Xuan didn't just want to seize the Throne of the Yuan King back then. I know very well what you all want to do."
The Old Taoist's eyes narrowed, he looked up and then grinned, revealing his yellow teeth.
"As expected of the bloodline of Emperor Taizu, a descendant of the royal family."