Her eyes were filled with confusion.
She could not figure out what had happened.
When Huang Fuling bathed, she had deliberately worn an underlayer beneath it, covering large swathes of skin.
The imperial robe looked little different from usual now. It seemed quite ordinary, its style merely a little more novel and daring at most.
This also suited Huang Fuling's personality.
Fiery, scorching, stubborn.
When she truly fell wholeheartedly in love with someone, she would charge into the flame like a moth, heedless of everything.
As for anyone else, they could forget about taking the slightest liberty with her, because she had already devoted her entire self to the Demon Venerable. Everything belonged to him.
Soon, beneath the heavy curtain of night, the two arrived at the cave they had visited before.
The cave was dim.
Protector Wang, who wore a long purple dress and had fairly pleasing features, was already waiting there.
Her expression was calm, but her gaze was somewhat grave, as though she were pondering something.
Only when she heard the rush of air did she turn around, about to speak.
She, too, noticed Huang Fuling's daring imperial robe, and the bruises and binding marks all over her.
This made her freeze for a moment.
She thought she had come not to the Demon Cult, but to the Hehuan Sect.
And to a direct lineage of the Hehuan Sect with extremely perverse tastes, at that.
She was a spy of the highest rank in the illustrious Shadow Moon Convent.
How had she been ravaged into such a state after just a few days apart?
They had made her play the Female Emperor, had her whipped, and even bound her with hemp rope.
Was she here to be a spy or a plaything?
Were spies these days exposed