Flaming Passion 3

Capital City, Royal Palace

The atmosphere in the study room in the third floor was getting colder and colder. Clearly it was a sunny day, yet the coldness was comparable to the harshest winter. The air pressure was so low that Han Xiaowu chose to breathe slowly through his mouth instead. The figure behind the desk was emitting a dark, heavy aura that spread throughout the room.

Mother, help! He really wanted to run but couldn't, wanted to cry but had no tears.

Sweat soaked his back and he gulped. "Y—Your Highness—"

All of a sudden, the antique vase on the corner of the room broke down in pieces. The sound was extremely loud in the quiet space and he jumped, his heart almost stopped beating. He looked at the vase behind him in horror, as if it would become his fate next.

"What did you say?"