Prince Zhao's words made Han Zhenzhen freeze.
Her complexion shifted from white to red, then to ashen, a fascinating kaleidoscope of emotion.
In the end, she couldn't hold back and burst into tears.
"Sob... I'm sorry, my Prince," she wept. "I was wrong. I'll be sure to take good care of myself from now on and not get sick again."
Li Ji watched her tear-streaked, pitiful display. Far from feeling any pity, he actually wanted to laugh.
And so, he did. He laughed out loud.
"Heh. How could you think that?
I don't care in the slightest whether you're sick.
I just want you to make a choice—
Either you stay put in Jade Pavilion from now on—don't come bother me for no reason, and *especially* don't come bother me if there is one.
Or, you pack your bags, take this letter of divorce, and leave the Prince Zhao Mansion immediately. From that moment on, we'll have nothing more to do with each other.
Which will it be?"
Han Zhenzhen was utterly stunned.
