"How can you be like this? You can like anything, but you just like being scolded." Mei Ya felt sweet inside, but she kept mumbling to herself. After spending a long time with Zhong Mingwei, she gradually became accustomed to his arrogant behavior.
"No one else can do it," Zhong Mingwei said with a smile. He rubbed Mei Ya's round nose, "Only you can do it."
"Hey, why are you like this?" Mei Ya was embarrassed. She couldn't help but laugh, rubbing against Zhong Mingwei, and then humming softly. "Are you really not angry? I just said that you... ahem... you can't spit out ivory, are you really not angry?"
"I'm not angry, not at all." Zhong Mingwei smiled softly. He leaned over and kissed Mei Ya's rosy lips, whispering, "Since you've said it. Why don't you come and look for it yourself?"
Meiya blushed and her heart beat fast when he kissed her. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly: "What are you looking for?"
"See if there is any ivory in there..." Zhong Mingwei said as he held Mei Ya's face and kissed her closely.
"I...found it..." Mei Ya stuttered, biting Zhong Mingwei's front teeth bravely. "Here, here, here...there is one..."
"Keep looking," Zhong Mingwei's breathing suddenly became heavier, and he pinched Mei Ya's chin and kissed her fiercely. "There are still many, enough for you to search for the whole night..."
…
February 26, 1934
That night.
The capital.
Royal Guard Camp.
When the commander of the Imperial Guards, Ma Zhiming, was polishing his sword in the room, he heard hurried footsteps outside. He shook his head and wondered why Zhou Youan couldn't change his impatient temper after all these years. He put the sword into the scabbard, and there was a knock on the door.
"General." Zhou Youan called out from outside the door.
"Come in." Ma Zhiming said in a deep voice. He hung the sword on the wall, sat on the couch, picked up the teapot, and slowly poured a cup of tea.
"General," Zhou Youan hurriedly pushed the door open, turned around and closed it, then hurried to the couch, took out a letter from his arms, and presented it to Ma Zhiming with both hands, "General, the lord sent an urgent secret letter from six hundred miles away, please take a look."
Ma Zhiming's originally relaxed face suddenly became solemn. He took the letter from Zhou Youan, opened it hastily, and scanned the thin letter paper. The more he read, the more solemn his expression became. Finally, he put the letter on the small table, shook his head in disbelief, and whispered, "How could this happen?"
Zhou Youan asked hurriedly: "General, does the lord have any instructions?"
"Take a look for yourself." Ma Zhiming handed over the letter, picked up the teacup and took a sip.
"My Lord, what do you mean by this?" The next second, Zhou Youan was also shocked. He read the letter over and over again, then put it down. He looked at Ma Zhiming and lowered his voice and said, "My Lord has never had any contact with the princes. Why do you have such thoughts at this time?"
"Yes, the Lord's thoughts are really puzzling," Ma Zhiming nodded, and said to Zhou Youan, "Sit down and talk."
"I really don't understand what the Lord's purpose is. If the Lord wants to intervene in the succession, then he shouldn't be interested in that half-dead paralytic, right?" Zhou Youan frowned, pursed his lips, and looked at Ma Zhiming, "General, the Lord wants to help the deposed prince ascend to the throne, right?"
"The lord didn't say anything about this. The letter only told us to protect the deposed crown prince and prevent him from being bullied in Ningguta." Ma Zhiming glanced at the letter again, frowning and shaking his head. "The lord didn't tell us anything else either. He only told us to ensure the safety of the deposed crown prince and to ensure that there would be no chaos in Ningguta. The lord's thoughts are really hard to predict."
"Who says it's not true? The Lord has never cared about the other princes, but now he suddenly asks us to take care of the deposed crown prince, and he even personally issued an order. It's really rare," Zhou Youan also nodded, "It seems that the Lord has some ideas in his mind, but he doesn't need us to know them for the time being."
Ma Zhiming nodded and said nothing. He took a sip of tea and suddenly put down the cup. He looked at Zhou Youan and asked, "How did the Jinyiwei deal with the third son of the Jiang family who was in the capital?"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
