Suddenly, Meng Fuyao stopped short of completing her sentence. The bright light shone, and her clothes could be clearly seen - there was a
The pink dudou was embroidered with lotus leaves and a pair of mandarin ducks. Under the light, the fabric was as smooth as water, and the luster was captivating.
On Zhan Beiheng's face, it was clear that his expression conveyed his thoughts. 'Adulterers! You're even wearing the dudou of my favored concubine, how dare you deny that something's not going on between you two?'
Meng Fuyao was grief-stricken - it was pitch-black, but how could she have grabbed the dudou out of all things!?
In the meantime, the ninth wife covered her face and whimpered. Her cries annoyed Meng Fuyao so much to the extent that the latter climbed down the bed and grabbed her clothes to go.
