"My lord."
"Eighth brother."
Yan Lian, Ziyi, and Ziwu witnessed this scene, both displaying tense expressions.
Ziyi even drew his sword and pointed it at Chu Baihan.
But Nan Xing's reaction was no less decisive—she immediately stood between them.
"If you want to strike our Princess, you'll have to get past my move first." She also drew her Soft Sword from her waist and thrust fiercely at Ziyi, each move aiming ruthlessly at his vital points.
Ziwu also wanted to make a move, but Yan Lin had already scolded loudly, "Everyone, stand down for your Prince!"
"My lord." Both Ziyi and Ziwu looked worried.
They had already hurt their lord, so why did their lord still not allow them to fight back?
"Prince Lin, I have told you before, do not touch me, or else you cannot bear the consequences," the Princess Consort asserted, her words ice cold.
Those chilly eyes of hers still harbored an unresolved hatred.
Yan Lin's gaze slightly deepened.
She hated him!