Wen Xian fell to the ground, his beautiful and clean eyes wavering. His slender hand gently pressed against his chest, and his face was so pale that it was almost transparent.
He bent down.
He spat out another mouthful of blood.
Fu Shang looked down at Wen Xian, his long and narrow Phoenix eyes emotionless. She elegantly bent her long legs, raised her hand, and pinched Wen Xian's chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.
"You want to kill me?"
"Your identity should not be just my Royal concubine, right?"
He noticed the pain and entanglement in this person's eyes. There was hatred, inexplicable feelings, and extremely complicated feelings ... At this moment, many thoughts flashed through Fu Shang's mind and he blurted out a sentence.
"Do you have a grudge against me? Or perhaps, you're not the real Wen Xian?"
His chin was pinched.
He could not avoid it.