No Faking of Accidents

In the Holy Son's Hall.

The lighting was dim and the atmosphere felt oppressive.

A whole day seemed to have passed by for a long time, yet it also seemed to have just passed in a flash.

However, the Holy Son no longer maintained the initial indifferent expression on his face. His extraordinarily handsome face was like an overcast sky that was about to rain.

"Jiao Jiao still hasn't appeared…"

He muttered to himself in a very low voice.

Next to him, Mo Zhongxiu shivered.

"What's going on? Didn't His Highness the Holy Son say that everything is under control?"