When Qingyi saw that the prince's expression changed as soon as he saw the note, she could tell with her toes that it was related to Miss Nan. Besides her, who else could affect the prince's emotions?
Qin Yi tossed the note to Qingyi, "Go and call General Li over."
"……yes!"
In a village near the Dongling military camp, in a dilapidated and uninhabited house, there was a very incongruous sandalwood horseshoe-shaped kang table.
Sitting at the table was a man dressed in a deep purple robe. Every move he made exuded an air of nobility, and the dilapidated house seemed extraordinary because of him.
He was intently examining portraits of women, with three prescriptions pressed down by jade thumb rings beside them.
"My lord, the arrangements have been made."
The person speaking moved with such lightness that no one could hear them at all; they were clearly a master with profound inner strength.
He walked to the table, looked at the illegible handwriting on the prescription under the jade ring, frowned and asked, "My lord, can you really tell that the woman is Miss Nan just from these ugly characters?"
Upon hearing this, a doting smile appeared on the lips of the man in the purple robe. He turned his head, took the prescription, and gently ran his fingertips over the words on the paper.
He said in a voice as clear as a spring, "Never say she's ugly in front of her, or you'll get beaten up."
The expert frowned even more deeply. "But these characters are truly... indescribable." How could someone who is the daughter of the Southern Chancellor of Dongling write such ugly characters?
The man in purple robes cast a cold glance at him. "What do you know? This is called special; it's not something an ordinary person could write."
The expert raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself, "My lord is truly blinded by love and is spouting nonsense."
"My lord, what if Miss Nan doesn't trust our people and refuses to go with them? Why don't we send me along? I've met Miss Nan several times before, and she should lower her guard when she sees me," the expert suggested.
The man in the purple robe gradually suppressed his smile, a look of pain appearing in his eyes, which he quickly hid.
He pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it to the expert, saying, "Dongling knows you. You can't go. Give this paper to Alan, and she'll know what to do after reading it."
The expert took the note with some skepticism, "...Yes."
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