Yu Wenqian had been practicing spiritual cultivation for many years. Even when he became the Crown Prince, a position of immense power, and ventured into battles risking his life, he never abandoned his home practice.
However, since the death of Duke Shenwu, he hadn't visited this room for a long time.
At this moment, he stood in the center of the room, which still retained a faint scent of sandalwood, facing a Buddha shrine placed on the incense table. Yet, unlike his past devout and serene expressions, his face seemed less composed and pious. Instead, when someone approached, the candlelight on the incense table flickered, casting shadows that failed to illuminate his visage, further shrouding his exceptionally handsome face in a deep gloom.
His gaze seemed cold and watchful, scrutinizing.
