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Meng Fuyao found this sentence odd, yet was unable to retort. Looking into Zhangsun Wuji's eyes, she could see some sort of emotions in them, yet she could not decipher if it was anger. Regardless, she knew it was not appropriate, and from her experience, as long as Zhangsun Wuji felt that it was not appropriate, she could not say otherwise. With much resentment, she said, ”Drink then.”

She handed over the bowl of soup lazily to Zhangsun Wuji, but he was not going to let her off so easily. ”Here? In someone else's house?”

'Goodness, this young master is certainly a handful to wait upon. Also, what is with that sour smell emitting off you? How stingy!'

Gloomily, she grabbed the soup and followed behind him. He strolled leisurely around the garden, where mimosa silk tree flowers bloomed joyfully. The pale pink of the flowers resembled the attractive lips of a young lady, fanning out into rows of red.

Zhangsun Wuji walked towards a white stone table and sat down. ”This place is beautiful, scenic, where everything is clear and pure.”

Meng Fuyao rolled her eyes. 'Is he insinuating that her being with Yun Hen in a room is 'dirty'? Geez, what a tight-arsed man.'

Resting his chin on his hand, Zhangsun Wuji commented, ”Is my lady planning for me to drink the soup with my eyes?”

This poor, tormented servant could only bitterly serve up the soup in a bowl. She shoved the bowl in front of him, spilling it on the table. With a laugh, he looked into the bowl and commented, ”This amount included everyone but yourself?”

Meng Fuyao snapped back. ”I am just a poor, suffering cook whose life is to serve my masters their soup!”

He laughed and slowly scooped up the soup. ”I did not mean to disturb the two of you.”

Her heart sunk a little, yet she still commented, ”Then why don't you generously say 'please continue, I did not see anything' and just leave?”

Zhangsun Wuji ignored this thick-skinned ruffian and continued, ”Because… I received news on Feng Jingfan's death.”

”Ah!” She sat there, with her mouth agape.

He chuckled and sent a mouthful of soup into her mouth. ”Here, to the most honorable chef.”

Meng Fuyao swallowed it in the most inelegant way she possibly could, ignoring his gentleness. Then, she anxiously grabbed onto his sleeve, asking, ”Dead? Killed… really? Is… it a lie?”

”According to the news, they met with the bandits fighting for territory in the borders of Tiansha. Feng Jingfan was accidentally killed in that exchange.” Zhangsun Wuji slowly sipped his soup as he contemplated.

”What about Fourth Prince Feng?”

”Escaped in shock and got separated with his sister. He went back to search for her corpse only to find a shoe of hers.”

Meng Fuyao frowned. Then, she realized that Zhangsun Wuji's tone was unusual. ”Are you saying that there was no corpse?”

”Yes.” Zhangsun Wuji tapped his finger on the table and looked towards the north. ”Variables appeared. Feng Jingfan's assassination was planned by my subordinates. They are professional assassins and have never failed missions of such nature. Yet, this time, a strange phenomenon has appeared.

”Mn?”

”They lost a portion of their memories.”

”Ah?”

Zhang Wuji turned to look at her. ”Their memories were from where they masqueraded as bandits and intentionally included Feng Jingfan in the conflict. They remembered everything clearly until the point where she was shot. However, when she fell down the cliff, everyone's memory blurry. More so, a majority of the people did not even realize that their memories had been tampered with. Their memories jumped from when Feng Jingfan fell off the cliff to where they came back to report to me their accomplishment. In their eyes, this was a normal, successful assassination.”

”Then how did you realize something was abnormal?”

”The leader of the invisible guards. He participated personally as he was worried. He has followed me for the longest, picking up some stuff, and he felt that something was wrong. He has a habit of checking the time frequently, and I had especially given him a golden pocket watch from the western region. After checking the time, he realized that there were 25 minutes where they had no memory of any actions.”

He looked towards Qiongcang, the stars reflected in his dark eyes. In his gaze, a form of uncertainty and weariness lingered as he remembered someone who was present at the last round of the competition that day. Slowly, he muttered, ”Perhaps, someone I really hate finally appeared…”

Meng Fuyao turned around and curiously asked, ”You have someone you hate? I never thought that you could have such normal human emotions.”