The First National Preceptor of the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 1147

After hearing Picasso's tone, Picasso felt a sense of unease welling up inside him.

Picasso knew that Piso was an impatient person, which is why he deliberately came to provoke him.

Picasso told Pisso directly, "I am the one who started all of this, and all the results you imagined are real. Even this time, your entry into the beauty's room was arranged by me."

"So? Are you satisfied with this big gift I gave you, brother?"

When Picasso heard Picasso reveal his plan, he couldn't believe it at all.

He originally thought that everything before was done by Picasso, but he didn't expect that Picasso was also responsible for the things that happened later.

"Piccas, you, you!"

He could never have imagined that Picasso had become so calculating.

He wasn't this smart before, but somehow he's become so smart.

"What exactly do you want to do? Are you plotting to usurp the throne?" Bisso asked coldly.

Picasso chuckled softly, a whip appearing in his hand at some point.

"To plot to usurp the throne? Only a prince as rebellious as you could utter such words."

"Do you think I would need to plot a coup after you die? Wouldn't the throne of this foreign country be within my grasp?"

Upon hearing Picasso's words, Picasso had completely lost faith in himself.

Because he knew that Picasso was behind it all.

Picasso had already made all the preparations, and he was now completely in Picasso's grasp.

"Piccas, you despicable, shameless man. You are utterly inhuman."

Upon hearing what Pisso said, Picasso immediately laughed.

"Do you think you're any better? Didn't you also try to murder the Emperor before?"

Bisso did not admit that he had ever thought of doing so.

He pinned all the blame on Picasso.

"You still believe it? Would Father kill his own son for a woman?"

"Even if this woman is his, he's already over fifty and doesn't have long to live. Would he really kill his own son for a woman?"

"Isn't that too much of a loss?"

Hearing Bisso say that.

Picasso simply gave a cold laugh.

"Is that so? You should know that this woman is Father Emperor's wife. You have sexually assaulted your own father's wife. Do you think your father will let you off the hook?"

Picasso knew perfectly well that the fact that Piso had only been imprisoned meant that the king did not want him to die.

However, since she had already told him everything...

This means that he now has no chance of letting Bisso leave the prison alive.

"Let me tell you, even you and I are the same. We would never let go of a man who covets our woman, even if she is just our concubine."

"If this gets out, what will people think?"

Upon hearing this, Bisso's eyes widened completely.

He already knew the answer.

If it were him, he would never let this man go.

But he always thought of him as his father, the emperor.

Could he really bear to kill his own son with his own hands?

Picasso didn't believe it at first, but after Picasso said it, he believed it.

He collapsed to the ground, completely limp.