Meng Fuyao sat, dumbstruck, on one side. She couldn't understand how things had escalated so quickly, with her as the main topic. She looked down a little and mumbled, "Why look at me? I'm doing great…"
Zong Yue, who was taking her pulse, raised a brow and commented coldly, "Very good indeed, weak energy level, irregular pulse. Too great. We're all just looking for problems."
Meng Fuyao shut up instantly, no longer daring to talk.
The atmosphere in the room sank, and the air became cold. Zhangsun Wuji kept quiet until some time later, where he responded slowly, "It is indeed something I'd have to explain to her. As for you, Prince, there's no need for me to."
