Later, the news of Du Ming'an's death in battle reached back to Kyoto, and she had no time to think about Du Jiaojiao.
"You're talking nonsense!"
Du Jiaojiao was not willing to believe it. Suddenly, she noticed the basket in the hands of the maid behind Zhao Yunzhu and said sarcastically, "Zhao Yunzhu, what's in that basket..."
Zhao Yunzhu saw that she couldn't fool him.
He strode forward, looked directly at Du Jiaojiao, and spoke in a voice that only the two of them could hear.
He said sarcastically, "Du Jiaojiao, the one in the basket is my niece."
"Guess why Song Shumin tricked you into coming here today?"
"I'm putting it this way. If you open the basket, I'll just die, but the Ninth Prince will be in trouble. I'm afraid everyone in the Yong'an Marquisate will have a hard time explaining it to him."
"Could it be that you think that if you report this matter, Song Shumin will use the entire Song Palace to protect you?"
After saying this, she took a step back and took the basket from the maid.
"Miss Du San, do you want more?"
There was endless oppression hidden in her smile, so Du Jiaojiao didn't dare to really take the basket.
Zhao Yunzhu was right. If she really stopped Zhao Yunzhu today, she would have a hard time explaining to the Ninth Prince.
After glaring at Zhao Yunzhu angrily, she turned around and left with her men.
Looking at the figure walking away, Zhao Yunzhu finally breathed a sigh of relief.
It was not advisable to stay here for long, so she picked up the basket and left quickly.
After getting on the carriage, the maid lowered the curtain.
The carriage sped along Chang'an Avenue.
A gust of wind blew and lifted a corner of the curtain.
Zhao Yunzhu glanced at the scenery outside the car window inadvertently, and her face suddenly darkened.
"What's the meaning!"
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