"Not proper, whether Miss Shuang'Er is telling the truth or not, this matter is too involved. If it goes wrong, even we might be implicated. And if it is indeed as Miss Shuang'Er said, those men in black were the Third Prince's people, handing Miss Shuang'Er over to the Government Office would be like walking into a trap." Han Yang quickly said.
"Grandpa Han is right, let Miss Shuang'Er recover here first, and we'll talk once things become clearer." Lin Xuelan's face also looked bad. Although she was grieving the death of the Eldest Princess, with her death, there was no one to save her father.
"If only Young Master Mo was still here."
For some reason, Lin Xuelan at that moment, the first name that came to mind was "Ink Language". With him by her side, Lin Xuelan would feel much more at ease.
...
At the same time, in a private room on the second floor of a tavern in the Capital City.
