Song Ci's eyes widened when she saw Princess Consort Ji.
In less than a year, this woman who originally appeared to be in her early forties, had become a decrepit elderly figure, aged sixty or seventy, her hunched back even more severe than her own.
It seemed that the removal of the poisonous insect had truly nearly cost her life; she was merely lucky to be alive.
It was also pitiable.
Song Ci sighed slightly, wondering if her return to the capital this time was fortunate or unfortunate. If she had not returned, such a tragic event probably wouldn't have happened, living a lifetime in illusion.
Oh, that's not quite right.
If she hadn't returned, Xia Yu would not be able to keep up the pretense indefinitely, and the truth would eventually be revealed, which would be a fatal blow then.
While Song Ci was lost in her thoughts, Princess Consort Ji also felt a tinge of emotion.
