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The black-robed old man bowed respectfully and poured wine into the emperor’s cup.
“Your Majesty,” the old man said, “neither Ye Guan, his father, nor that lady in the plain skirt who supports them is worth your concern. Just give the word, and their heads will be at your feet.”
Dao Emperor Zhaowu drained his cup in one swift motion, and a smile tugged at his lips as he said, “Elder Xian, underestimating our foes is a dangerous habit. History is littered with the bones of the arrogant who thought they were invincible.”
Elder Xian remained impassive. “They are beneath us, unworthy of even a passing thought.”
Dao Emperor Zhaowu laughed heartily. “After all these years, your pride remains unshaken. I find that quite admirable.”
Elder Xian bowed again. He showed respect only to the Dao Emperor.
At that moment, a shadowy figure slipped into the hall. “Your Majesty, the Eight Hidden Buddhas have arrived. Should I bring them in?”
Dao Emperor Zhaowu nodded slightly. “Let them ...
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