Yang Yi stood firmly in place, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter.
He had roamed the world for many years, repeatedly experiencing life and death, inherently carrying a sense of authority. At this moment, his frowning and contemplative demeanor added even more to his cold and solemn aura.
"If Kunning Palace indeed hadn't told him about these things, and if he indeed fell seriously ill before meeting me that year, then his appearance in front of me that night is indeed suspicious."
"So, we should approach this matter calmly now." Fu Zhen stepped forward, "To be prudent, please keep a watchful eye if you meet with King Yan in the future."
Yang Yi turned his head to glance at her, taking a deep breath.
"I haven't met him often; once seven years ago, once three years ago, and once again last night."
That he voluntarily disclosed their meeting last night made things much easier to handle.
