Fu Qian Yao's eyes were filled with shock.
He had never imagined that on this ordinary night, the Southern Emperor would walk into his room.
And the reason for entering his room was now clear even without thinking hard.
The Southern Emperor had seen through his conspiracy!
This was something Fu Qian Yao found hardest to accept; he couldn't understand how, despite all his careful secrecy, the Southern Emperor managed to uncover the truth.
A myriad of emotions—shock, confusion, panic, fear—flickered ceaselessly in Fu Qian Yao's eyes, nearly stupefying him.
Yang Jing, carrying a giant axe, reached out and effortlessly grabbed a large sofa, then with a thud, placed it in front of Fu Qian Yao.
The loud sound snapped Fu Qian Yao back to reality, and then he saw Chen Yang sitting on the sofa, looking down at him from above with the cold detachment of a king.
Those overseeing eyes, deep yet indifferent, emitted a chilling aura that terrified Fu Qian Yao.
"I ask you."
