After Feng Qing finished speaking, Rong Ling's face grew dark and he stared at her with a cold charm.
You're throwing a tantrum with me, the Prince.
Seeing through Rong Ling's thoughts, Feng Qing quickly stated, "The Prince has misunderstood."
Si Hua paled further at Feng Qing's earlier words, her body swaying as if about to fall. Si Shu, who couldn't bear to watch, glanced at Feng Qing before saying, "Princess Consort, it's better to leave some room for compromise."
Feng Qing turned to look at Si Shu, then addressed Rong Ling, "The Prince's maids are indeed more capable than others."
Rong Ling turned his gaze towards Si Shu, his face now cold as an ice sculpture, his dark eyes devoid of any warmth.
Si Shu was also frightened, her face turned pale, and she instinctively knelt down.
"Prince, this servant deserves to die."
Rong Ling's cold, emotionless voice rang out, "Nan Feng, remove Si Hua, find someone to marry her off."
"Yes, Prince."
