The Lady in the General’s Arms is a Bigshot in Mystic Arts

"This, my subordinates don't know..." The guard glanced at the several carriages parked on the other side, a little confused.

Jiang Fu looked calmly, and said, "It's nothing, I just asked casually, let's go first."

"Yes, Miss Jiang, please."

Not long after Jiang Fu entered, Miss Guo and the others waited for the father-in-law sent by the emperor, they got out of the carriage, and after a routine inspection, they lined up and entered the palace together.

-

Because of the clouds in the sky, Jiang Fu took a second look and walked slowly.

When he arrived at Zhao Heng's bedroom, he raised his eyes and saw a man in a dragon robe.

The man looked about the same age as Xie Cheng, with golden crowns on his hair, sword eyebrows and star eyes, extremely black eyebrows and eyes, he was very handsome.

His complexion was extremely bad, and he could feel the low air pressure on his body before he stepped forward.

Jiang Fu didn't know who it was, and before he had time to react, the man had already walked up to her and stopped, his gaze fell on her.

"You are Jiang Fu?"

The hoarse voice came down, carrying an unexplainable haze of prey.

Jiang Fu raised his eyes, "This is?"

This attire should be that of a prince.

But Zhao Heng has many sons, and he doesn't know which one it is.

The little **** following the man said in a low voice: "Miss Jiang, this is His Highness the Eighth Prince."

Oh, the Eighth Prince?

Jiang Fu's eyes flickered slightly, it was the person Qingqing had been chasing for a long time, she lowered her head slightly, her eyelashes drooping, "Minnv has seen Your Highness."

Although she lowered her head, she could still feel the coldness of that gaze.

It looks okay, but it's fierce.

The man walked in a little bit, he stood upright beside Jiang Fu, looked down at her, and said in a low voice, "Miss Jiang is very capable, she was able to coax father to this point."

Jiang Fu raised her eyes slightly, and behind her was a large expanse of burning clouds. The reddish-orange burning clouds made the girl's skin extremely white and delicate. Two Wang Qingtan, bottomless, "That must be better than His Royal Highness the Eighth Prince."

"Those who have been chasing His Highness all the time, now feel unlucky even to look at His Highness."

Her voice was soft, low, and slightly mocking, which made Zhao An's expression change instantly.

Those clear eyes fixedly looked at him, slightly bent, half a smile but not a smile.

Qingqing is right, it really is bad luck.

There is a big cloud of black air around this Zhao An, although the color is not very dark, it is very big.

There will be one bad thing after another, which may not lead to death, but is enough to upset him.

"Boldly—"

Zhao Anding looked at her and suddenly yelled.

He is the father's own son, the eighth prince of Xuanwu, how dare he call him unlucky!

The person in front of him was wearing a green shirt, his black hair was simply partly pulled up, and his long hair hung down like silk on the back of his head.

She was dressed very simply, without too much jewelry, but her face looked very fair.

That fair face was facing him like that, smiling lightly, without the slightest hint of fear, as if looking at a clown.

"Who told you?" Zhao An stared at her, his tone was still low, he suddenly smiled grimly, and said, "Is it An Le?"

"She told you that?"

"She said she felt unlucky seeing His Highness?"

As if he had heard some good joke, the smile on his lips became wider and wider, and he said, "Do you believe what she said?"

"It's just a trick of playing hard to get. I don't know how many times. Believe it or not, as long as His Highness ticks her fingers, she will come back immediately."