Zhong Qunbo felt like he was barking up the wrong tree. To push a successor to the Empress Dowager, he had schemed for twenty years, knelt and licked his face like a grandson. Just as the next tile was about to give him a win, the player before him snatched the tile away.
How could he not be angry, not be exasperated, not feel wronged?
He must have been truly unlucky.
But no matter how unlucky, when the Empress Dowager summons you, you have to roll over willingly.
"Later on, just talk about old times with her," Zhong Qunbo said to his wife beside him. "Have you prepared the handkerchief?"
Madam Liu, Zhong Qunbo's wife, squeezed the handkerchief in her hand and nodded, "Everything is ready."
Why prepare it? Naturally, it's for acting. With a wipe of the handkerchief, tears will stream down. That's right, it's a handkerchief dabbed with ginger juice.
