"Dogthing!"
In the neighboring courtyard, as Sang Jiao heard the Princely Heir cursing someone inside, for an instant she thought she was the target. Just as she was about to come forward to apologize, she faintly sensed something was off.
The voice of the Princely Heir was not right.
Restrained, suppressed, filled with annoyance and resentment.
If he were scolding her, why would the Princely Heir need to be like this?
To directly execute her would likely bring no one who dared to utter a word of objection.
Sang Jiao's heart was filled with trepidation as she pricked up her ears to listen; inside, the cursing did not resume for some time.
After about a quarter of an hour, the Princely Heir finally came out from inside.
His complexion was flush, his eyes murky yet carried a cold, fierce energy. That gaze swept over her like seeing the killer of his father.
"Go, call for Quding."
Sang Jiao bowed her head and replied cautiously.
