Thinking of Mo Qiyan, Gu Jiayin's heart felt as though a gentle feather brushed lightly across it. For a moment, the still water rippled, and her thoughts became disordered.
Seven years ago, when she was taken to Suri by agents of the Suri Royal Family, Mo Qiyan was eighteen, a remarkably gifted and handsome prince.
The first time she saw him was at the Royal Riding Ground.
That day, her eyes were blindfolded with a strip of cloth and she was secretly brought to the riding ground, where the Emperor was to meet her.
At that time, her life was dark and confused.
She was like a drifting leaf, having no idea where she was heading.
With a gun pressed against her back, walking in bewilderment, her entire world was darkness. She was so thankful then that she at least had ears to hear the outside world.
"Prince Qiyan." Suddenly, the agents halted in their tracks, their voices filled with respect.
