"Mr. Zhou, please wait." Chen Zishu hurried to catch up with Zhou Shicong.
Zhou Shicong stopped and looked at him coldly. In the throne room just now, these people hadn't said a single word in his defense. 'What could he possibly want now?'
"Mr. Zhou, surely you're not planning to just back down like this?"
Any fool could see the provocation in his words. Zhou Shicong sneered, "Mr. Chen, are you here to kick a man while he's down?"
"How could I?" Chen Zishu said, stroking his beard. "I just feel it's a pity, Mr. Zhou. You may be in charge of the Ministry of Revenue, but it seems you're nothing more than a puppet on a string, unable to make your own decisions. I merely find it unjust."
"Mr. Chen, you are mistaken. I am serving the sovereign. The Ministry of Revenue naturally belongs to the Holy Emperor. I understand my duty as a subject."
But inwardly, he thought, 'This old fox Chen Zishu isn't here to commiserate; he's here to rub salt in the wound.'
