At the other end of the arched bridge, beneath the ancient locust tree, beside the round stone table, a young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture like jade.
He wore a purple straight-cut court robe, a girdle of matching color with a gold spiderweb pattern at his waist, his black hair fixed with a jade-gold crown, his back long and straight, exuding an innate nobility and coldness.
There was a great sense of solemnity and seriousness as if he was preparing to interrogate a prisoner.
Even under the bright sun, there was an inexplicable chill that could not be dispelled.
Qu Fulan suppressed the inexplicable tension in her heart and walked onto the three-meter long arched bridge.
During this time, she kept recalling the recent events in her mind. She hadn't done anything out of line, nor had she made any mistakes. Why was Heir Pei in such a serious state?
Was it directed at her, or was there something else?
