Like now.

Fu Yue sat in the imperial study to criticize the folds, and suddenly became distracted, the wolf pen in his hand was left in place for a long time, and the ink stained a large piece of the folds.

She looked down at the stained folds.

“……”

Slap the pen on the table.

There was a loud noise.

The bodies of the attendants around them suddenly shrank a little, and their heads were buried even lower, for fear that Fu Yue would find someone to be angry for no reason.

Fu Yue was thinking about Wen Xian.

She didn't know why Wen Xian wanted to kill her, and she didn't know why he stopped at the last minute at first.

The phrase "your heart is happy" was also deceived by Fu Yue.

The result was beyond Fu Yue's expectations.

I didn't expect Wen Xian to really like her.

The empress's narrow eyes flashed with a somewhat complicated look, and shallow doubt.

If Wen Xian really wanted to kill her.

Fu Yue knew very well that she couldn't escape.

As long as the dagger is smeared with a layer of poison, or the strings are not soft, and she is stabbed down while she is still awake -

She will surely die.

This is where Fu Yue is puzzled.

It's not so much that Wen Xian is assassinating her, but that he seems to be completing a formalistic task, which is still very distracting.

It's like playing at home.

Fu Yue: "......"

She had some guesses.

Could it be that Wen Xian is a member of a killer organization and has to complete the task of killing her, but because he fell in love with her, he still couldn't do it?

It feels like this explanation is a little pale, too far-fetched.

With that in mind.

Fu Yue went to the prison alone.

……

Prison.

It was already late at night, and a white moon hung alone in the sky, a small corner of it obscured by clouds, and the inky sky was a little calm.

The moonlight shone down.

Through the small window of the cell, it sprinkled on the numb and gray faces of the prisoners.

It was dark inside the prison, with no end in sight in the long corridor, and there was a faint fire in the distance, and if you looked closely, it was a fire burning in front of the cell.

Cold and humid environment.

Wen Xian was locked up alone in a fairly tidy cell, he sat on a clean straw mat, his back against the wall, his eyes closed, and his lips pale and bloodless.

Because there is no will of Fu Yue.

The jailer in the prison did not embarrass him, but served him with good food and drink every day, but smelled the strings, and did not move a few chopsticks to the meals delivered every day, and his expression was obviously haggard.

I was forced to accept Fu Yue's palm before.

Fu Yue didn't say anything to pass on the imperial doctor to him, and Wen Xian's injury has been dragged like this.

Wen Xian was always silent.

It's like bent on death.

At this time, the jailers outside all fainted there, and the corpses lay there one by one, horizontally and vertically.

Something feels wrong.

Wen Xian's curly eyelashes moved slightly, slowly opened, and those eyes were always clean and beautiful, but they had lost their former brilliance, but they seemed to be like dead hearts.

He saw the man in black standing in his cell, the other party was wearing a pure black cloak, and he could only see that his figure was a little rickety, and the whole person almost seemed to be hidden in the darkness.

The man in black looked at the medicine he sent to Wen Xian, but he didn't move at all, and he hated that iron could not be made of steel.

His voice was hoarse and unpleasant, and a little shrill and indescribable, and some familiar, but I couldn't tell where it was familiar.

"Lord, what is wrong with you now?"