Her personality has always been like this, straightforward and unbridled, never overthinking things— even now, as she languishes in the Cold Prison.
Yue Gonghui's expression, however, turned unpleasant.
He thought he had shown sufficient respect, addressing her repeatedly as "Your Majesty" while practically groveling, even swallowing his pride.
All for just a single jade scroll, a single word, or even merely a sound from her— and yet she refuses?
"I..."
"Weren't you calling yourself 'Old Minister' just a moment ago?"
Before Yue Gonghui could finish, Yue Gongnu lowered her gaze, her fingers gliding across her zither. The abrupt resonance of the strings carried a weight of chilling intent.
"Uh..."
He was taken aback.
So sensitive? He hadn't even begun to change his tone.
But Yue Gongnu clearly knew exactly what he was thinking.
Over the years, she'd seen enough of the coldness of human relationships. Few among those who came to visit her meant it sincerely.
