It was time for the daily Imperial Council.
The members of the Silver Frost Envoy arrived at the Imperial Court. All the civil and military officials stared at the slender, handsome, white-robed monk standing in the center.
"Amitabha Buddha! This humble monk is Jiang Shan. Greetings, Chief Minister."
Jiang Shan placed his palms together and bowed deeply.
The Chief Minister of the Cabinet, Yuan Xuangang, maintained a calm expression. He couldn't help but ask, "Esteemed envoy, have you come to our Great Yan representing the Emperor of Great Frost, or the Silver Frost King?"
Jiang Shan smiled faintly. "The Silver Frost King, of course."
At these words, the officials' expressions varied. Most of them watched the white-robed monk with cold eyes, feeling that he had ill intentions.
