Wei Ting produced a yellowed, frayed sheet of paper from within his robes, clearly something he had preserved for a long time.
Prince Yong was the first to snatch it.
"General Wei Ting, you must be joking. My cousin is not some frivolous woman."
He would have believed it if someone called Ji Qingwu cruel and ruthless, but he refused to believe she was flighty and licentious.
Prince Yong looked it over, his expression normal at first.
But then his eyes landed on something, and Prince Yong, a man accustomed to the pleasure quarters, shuddered as if he had seen something truly shocking.
The sheet of Huanhua Paper, a little over four inches long, began to circulate among the dozen or so men who wished to marry Ji Qingwu. After reading it, they all wore the exact same, peculiar expression.
Somehow, the note also found its way into the hands of Lu Juan, who was standing off to the side.
