A deep voice vibrated in Ji Qingwu's ears.
"But I never said how many times you could go."
Including yesterday, Ji Qingwu had gone a total of twice.
His tone was severe. "That Mrs. Tao is a clay Bodhisattva—utterly helpless. Why do you bother with her?"
Ji Qingwu mumbled, her voice as faint as a buzzing mosquito, "She's not a clay Bodhisattva. She's a Golden Bodhisattva."
'Since Emperor Wu Su knew she had visited Anle Hall yesterday, he must also know perfectly well why she went and who she went for.'
Ji Qingwu continued, "I didn't go for the Princess Consort's sake. I went for my own."
She jutted her chin toward the doors of the hall.
Two people were still kneeling outside.
Emperor Wu Su had long intended to punish Wei Ting, but the time hadn't been right. Ji Qingwu's tactic was a bit crude, but it was surprisingly effective.
Ji Qingwu always managed to strike Prince Yong right where he was most vulnerable.
