The three abruptly stopped, suddenly halting, and stared at Chu Zhiyuan who had appeared unexpectedly across from them.
His figure was slender and tall, handsome and imposing, yet not lacking in gentleness and calmness; he stood smiling on the treetop, gazing over at them with a serene smile.
His smile was amiable, with not a hint of murderous intent, as though greeting an old friend.
Behind Chu Zhiyuan, a green figure floated out from the forest, it was Fu Zheng.
Fu Zheng held a longsword in her hand, the sword's light was cold and quiet, its tip tilted towards the three.
Her expression was indifferent, her clear eyes icy.
Zhou Yifan's face slightly darkened, clasping his fists he said, "Greetings to Prince Consort."
Chu Zhiyuan waved his hand, casting his gaze onto the two middle-aged men, scrutinizing them.
The two middle-aged men's faces were sullen.
Their eyes scanned around.
Chu Zhiyuan laughed and said, "From Yuanzhen?"
