Jin Zijin glared at Zhang Shiyu with an expression of utter disgust in his eyes and said, "In the past few hundred years, so many people have died in this courtyard—one more won't make a difference, nor will one less. You want to die? Be my guest!"
He pointed to a rockery not far away.
Zhang Shiyu's face turned deathly pale; her hands were dripping blood, as was her heart.
She quietly asked herself, "No, why has he changed?"
The Jin Zijin in her memory was nothing like this. Where had those warm eyes gone? Could it be because it was nighttime now, that his warmest side, like the sunlight during the day, was only given during the daytime?
"Your Highness Ningwang? I just want to ask you, what's wrong with me? Why don't you want me?"
Jin Zijin replied indifferently, "Whether you're good or bad, what has it got to do with me?"
"I..." She was instantly left speechless.
