The blood smell of the great victory in Northern Xinjiang still lingered on his armor, so Lu Tingyuan was called to Beijing because of his "high achievements that shocked the master". When he was standing in a pavilion on the outskirts of Beijing, a dead soldier suddenly arrived, with a poison-tempered dagger pointed at his back - but a figure in brocade suddenly rushed towards him, it was Murong Qing, the sixth prince who was joked about in Beijing as the "trash".
There was a muffled sound of the sharp knife piercing flesh, and the young man fell limply in his arms. The blood-stained brocade clothes still managed to raise his eyes: "General... Are you okay?" He escorted the person to another hospital, and when feeding the medicine, his fingertips brushed against the other person's white lips, and he saw that there was a light that did not look like cowardice in the always drooping phoenix eyes. In the dark room, Murong Qing spread out the secret report, and pressed his fingertips against the corruption of the water transport. The hand that held his hand was cold but firm.
But the "just right" angle of blocking the knife during the assassination, and the "just right" cry from the emperor to save the siege always made Lu Tingyuan suspicious: He thought the alliance was relying on each other. Could it be that from that moment in Changting, he had already become the opponent's pawn? In this tumultuous situation, who is hunting and who is the bait?
