The breeze stirred, and three thousand strands of black hair were disheveled in the wind. Consort Ya no longer possessed that graceful demeanor, with sarcasm evident at the corner of her lips, plainly displayed for all to see.
Emperor Zi Yue clenched his fists tightly, a furious expression on his aged face. He lifted his hand and viciously slapped Ji Ru Ya across the face, the sound of the slap ringing out clear and crisp.
Ji Ru Ya's face twisted to one side, strands of her hair falling down and sticking to her cheek. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, yet the contempt on her face did not fade.
"Did I say something wrong? I heard your entire conversation, and she even promised to help make Purple Moon Country the most powerful nation. You're willing to disregard your own people for personal gain."
