After leaving the gate of the Imperial College, Hua Qingcheng rode her Xiangyun horse straight to the Dali Temple.
Arriving at the gate of the Dali Temple, Hua Qingcheng dismounted and rushed towards the Heavenly Prison like a gust of wind. Seeing that it was the princess coming, the guards knelt in greeting.
"Where are Xiahou Jing and Xiahou Yu being held captive?" Hua Qingcheng's gaze was extremely cold, sweeping slowly at the guards guarding the gate like a cold star.
The guard immediately bowed and replied, "Reply...Reply to Your Highness, the Xiahou mother and daughter are serious criminals of the imperial court, and are being...imprisoned in the innermost solitary cell."
"Very good, lead the way!"
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Hua Qingcheng followed the guards and soon arrived at the cell where Xiahou Jing and Xiahou Yu were imprisoned.
"Back off."
"Yes, Your Highness."
After sending the guards away, Hua Qingcheng turned her gaze to the cell in front of her. Her gaze was like two sharp swords, as if to pierce through the two people in the cell.
At this moment, Xiahou Jing and Xiahou Yu were both wearing white prison uniforms. The large "Prisoner" character on their chests was like a sharp sword, ruthlessly piercing their former glory and dignity. At this moment, Xiahou Jing and her daughter were disheveled, their hair was disheveled, and they were wearing heavy handcuffs and shackles. They had long lost the glory and vigor they once had as the Prince of Pingxi and his daughter.
"Nalan Qingcheng?" Xiahou Jing stared at Hua Qingcheng who suddenly appeared at the door of the sky prison with a puzzled look on her face, her eyes full of confusion.
Xia Houyu, who was sitting on the ground, glanced at Hua Qingcheng slowly, a mocking smile on his lips: "Why, did you come here to listen to me tell you about the wonderful experience of going to Wushan with Bai Yuheng?"
These words were like a sharp blade, deeply stinging Hua Qingcheng's heart. Her eyes, originally red from crying, instantly ignited with raging anger.
"You... deserve to die!" Hua Qingcheng cursed with gritted teeth, her voice filled with endless resentment.
However, Xiahou Yu didn't take it seriously. Instead, he burst into laughter. "Hahahaha... Nalan Qingcheng, you stole my Situ Xuanye, and I'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine. So what do you think? Doesn't it hurt to see your beloved being taken away by someone else?"
For a moment, Xiahou Yu's laughter echoed in the cell, making people's hair stand on end.
Hua Qingcheng bit her lip, trying hard to suppress her inner anger, but tears still welled up in her eyes. She couldn't accept this fact, and she couldn't forgive Xia Houjing and her daughter for what they had done to Bai Yuheng.
Hua Qingcheng narrowed her eyes slightly, then opened them again, suppressing her anger. Then she sat cross-legged in front of the cell. The next moment, a zither suddenly appeared between her knees.
"You, you, you...what are you doing..."
Inside the cell, Xia Hou Jing's eyes widened as she stared at Hua Qingcheng in astonishment. How on earth did this woman do it? She could actually take something from the air?!
Hua Qingcheng's cold gaze, like ice, swept over Xia Houjing indifferently. Her eyes seemed to contain endless frost, which made people feel cold. Xia Houjing felt an inexplicable chill, as if she was being stared at by the god of death.
Hua Qingcheng's lips curled up slightly, a faint sneer forming. Then, she extended her slender jade fingers and gently plucked the zither on her lap. The strings emanated a clear, melodious sound, like the sound of nature, yet it also revealed an endless sadness and poignancy, as if it could penetrate the dark and gloomy prison cell and reach far into the distance.
Inside the cell, Xiahou Jing and her daughter sat quietly on the cold floor, their gaze fixed squarely on the front, as if they could peer through the solid walls to the outside world. A tense atmosphere hung in the air, and then, suddenly, a piercing sound like a sharp sword pierced the air, shattering the stillness.
The sound of the zither flashed like a flash of lightning, carrying with it an aura of immense majesty and fierceness. The moment Xiahou Jing and her daughter heard the zither's sound, their faces turned as pale as paper, as if stung by it. Their lips trembled slightly, as if they wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
Hua Qingcheng's eyes revealed endless indifference and disdain, as if she had poured all her resentment into the sound of the piano.
As the melody rose and fell, Hua Qingcheng's emotions grew increasingly agitated. Her fingers danced across the strings, like the fluttering of a butterfly, yet also as fierce as a violent storm. Each note was imbued with power, like a sharp sword, piercing the hearts of Xiahou Jing and her daughter. The notes intertwined, forming an invisible net that tightly enveloped Xiahou Jing and her daughter.
Xiahou Jing and her daughter began to tremble uncontrollably. They tried to move their feet, hoping to escape this terrifying place. However, they found their legs were nailed to the ground, unable to move. The sound of the zither echoed in their ears, like a demonic sound, leaving them with nowhere to escape. They could only silently endure the torment, their hearts filled with fear and despair.
Hua Qingcheng's smile grew increasingly cold, as if the world had nothing to do with her anymore. Her heart was filled with hatred for Xia Houjing's mother, a hatred she couldn't let go of. The zither became her medium for venting her emotions, and every time she plucked the strings, it felt as if she was releasing all the pain and resentment deep within her heart.
"Puff~"
At this moment, Xia Houyu, who had been enduring tremendous pressure, finally gave up and suddenly spit out a mouthful of blood. Her body was shaking, her face was pale, and she looked very weak.
"Yu'er! Yu'er! How are you?"
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