He slowly stood up, looking around. Above him were intricately carved beams and painted pillars, beneath his feet lay a floor of golden bricks. Behind a screen depicting five-clawed golden dragons was a long writing desk. On either side of the desk were two crane-shaped palace lamps, their flickering light casting swirling smoke. The cold air of late autumn, scented with sandalwood, blew across his nose.,The torrent of information in Zhu Yijun's mind finally ceased its influx. The images before him stopped flickering, and he understood the situation.,Even if you overturn furniture, you'll still be punished. This is no joke.。