"How did An Yina die?!"
Wuma Jun sneaked into the palace and asked the imperial maid whom he trusted to call for Huijun.
Huijun had just arrived, but he reprimanded and questioned her right to her face.
"Haha. How she died is none of my business. If you're curious, you should ask someone else. Why are you asking a concubine like me who resides deep in the palace?"
Dressed in an intricate imperial costume, Huijun was as beautiful as a painting. Even the fairies in heaven could not compare to her. She was like a delicate flower. The more she bloomed, the more stunning she was. She could attract the souls of others just by standing there. It was a pity that Wuma Jun did not have the mood to admire such beauty because of his rage.
Wuma Jun initially reproached Huijun to listen to the reasons and to pump information from her, but she actually responded that way.