Feng Fuce turned his head, looking at him coldly.
The youth's aura was just as decisive and fierce as before, his face clearly saying "not to be trifled with."
Duke Ping walked up to him: "Marquis Wan, this place is not suitable for idling conversations, may I ask for a word with you?"
Feng Fuce glanced around.
Outside the Imperial Study Room, heavily guarded and strictly enforced by the Imperial Guard.
His thin lips moved slightly, his voice clear and cold.
"I think it's unnecessary, you and I both serve the Emperor, it is suitable to speak here."
Duke Ping was rejected, his expression temporarily looking somewhat unpleasant.
But he quickly adjusted.
"Then I'll get straight to the point, Marquis, I'm still here for the death of my youngest son, wish to ask the Marquis to tell me the truth."
Feng Fuce's pupils were indifferent and dark.
He looked at Duke Ping: "What truth do you want? This question, I've answered dozens of times."
