Qian Renxue turned the letter over and over, reading it three times. The more she read, the colder her expression became.
She had thought that even if that dragon-horned bastard had spent years away and did not think of her every day, he should at least have kept their engagement in mind.
But what happened?
He had not sent her a single letter or even a brief message, yet a marriage proposal from the Clear Sky Sect's sect master had arrived at Spirit Hall before anything from him.
The letter praised Tang Yuehua to the skies—dignified and gentle, cultured and refined. Every word seemed to say that she was the most suitable girl in the world for Deng Tianxin.
Though she was still young, the memories of both her past and present lives had merged, and she understood the workings behind political marriages between great families all too well.
Of course, she knew Tang Zhen had written with courtesy and consideration. She knew this marriage would bring Spirit Hall nothing but benefits. Yet after reading the entire letter, she could only make out four words: Deng Tianxin was going to marry someone else.
"What a fine Deng Tianxin." Qian Renxue sneered and slammed the letter onto the table hard enough to make the maids beside her shrink their necks.
She rose and paced around the room. Two tiny flames burned in her golden eyes, growing fiercer by the moment.
That bastard was out there enjoying himself, with Xiao Wu on one side and Di Qiu'er on the other, and now Tang Yuehua had appeared too. What did he think he was, the Saint Son choosing his consorts?
Qian Renxue took a deep breath, her voice cold as ice chips. "When he comes back, make him stay in the secret room.