“喂！让开让开！本太子李承天，大唐未来的顶梁柱，你们几个泥腿子也敢拦着我不？”

Guarded by stern-faced guards, the young prince Li Chengtian, draped in luxurious robes, strode boldly through the bustling streets of Chang'an. His golden冠 on his head shimmered under the sun, while his jade jade jade jade jade jade jade jade jade jade jade on his waist swayed with each step. His eyes, though young, held the sharpness and decisiveness of a seasoned warrior.

However, his journey was about to take a turn for the worse. Suddenly, a ragged man appeared on the scene, blocking his path with a desperate look in his eyes. His clothes were tattered, and his face was etched with hardship, yet he stood firm, not daring to move.

"Prince Chengtian, please spare us, Your Highness!" the man pleaded, his voice trembling but his voice firm.

The guards, sensing danger, moved to protect the prince, but he stopped them with a wave of his hand. "What's the matter? You seem to have something to say to me."