Jiang Yuechu quietly watched the old man.
There was no fury, no questioning.
Even the scant disappointment she had felt was now carefully tucked away.
With the means at her disposal now,
as the Grand Princess of Great Tang and a cultivator in the Lotus-Planting Realm,
there were far too many ways to pry open the mouth of an ordinary old man.
But since he wanted to take that secret to his grave, then let him.
The reason she had not resorted to thunderous measures was simple.
If you won't speak, I won't force you.
From this day on,
you are the Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince of Great Tang.
I am Princess Zhaoyue of Great Tang.
The kindness of raising me for sixteen years will be settled by the interrogation that never came.
As for that secret...
Does it really matter?
Perhaps to the Jiang Yuechu of the past, it was a momentous matter concerning her origins and her fate.
But to her now,
so long as she was strong enough,
no matter how earth-shattering the truth behind Consort Ming's death might be, no matter whether it involved gods, Buddhas, demons, or monsters,
when the time came,
she would smash it apart with one punch.
Why beg a dying old man for that pitiful scrap of truth?
After a long while,
she withdrew her gaze and slowly rose to her feet.
Then she turned around.
Her wide sleeves swept out like a surging tide abruptly cut off.
"Since that's how it is... take care."
Jiang Xun's body shuddered violently, as though he wanted to reach out and grasp the bright moon in the sky.
But his hand hung frozen in midair for a long while before finally dropping limply.
"I respectfully... see Your Highness off."
Deep in the