Zhan Xiang, Fu Yi, and Chang Mama were stunned, staring in disbelief at Ning Wanwan’s decisiveness in not protecting the Second Miss.
Lin Yutong stood frozen, tears glistening on her face, bewildered by Ning Wanwan’s sudden coldness. This shouldn’t be happening.
Chang Mama, following behind, gave Lin Yutong a fierce glare before cheerfully following after Ning Wanwan.
Ge Shou Hall was the side hall of the Ning Guogong residence.
Ning Wanwan stood at the door, seeing the man seated in the eastern guest position, Yi Wang, Si Zhan, dressed in a jade-colored brocade robe.
Si Zhan’s face resembled fine jade, with his eyebrows lowered and a hint of melancholy evident. His sickly pale complexion, likely due to lifelong frailty, did not diminish his aloof and extraordinary temperament.
At nineteen, Si Zhan appeared naive and pure, almost adorable. She wondered if he remembered the past as she did and considered probing him about it.
Si Zhan turned his gaze, unexpectedly colliding with hers, and he felt his heartstrings tremble.
She had said to never be polite with her again. Did she already remember who he was?
Suddenly, Si Zhan began to cough, raising his fist to his lips.
Ning Wanwan rushed to his side, supporting his arm with one hand and gently patting his back with the other. “Uncle, what’s wrong? Why are you suddenly coughing?” she asked anxiously.
Everyone knew that Prince Yi, Si Zhan, had been weak and sickly since childhood. In his previous life, imperial physicians predicted he wouldn’t live past twenty-four, and he died that year by suicide.
Only she knew that Si Zhan’s poor health stemmed from poisoning, not childhood weakness.
Si Zhan felt the warmth of her hand on his back, almost scorching him.
The coughing grew worse, his jade-like face turning bright red. He lowered his head and turned to the side, “Cough cough… It’s nothing… Just an old problem…”
After the coughing subsided, he turned to her, “Thank you for your concern, Princess.”
Ning Wanwan’s hand slid down from Si Zhan’s arm to grasp his hand. Si Zhan trembled slightly, looking at her warm little hand enveloping the back of his hand, his heart beating nervously.
Concerned, Ning Wanwan said, “Your hand is cold. Zhan Xiang, quickly bring my hand warmer.”
She released his hand and walked towards Zhan Xiang, who was approaching.
