The seventeen-year-old He Jiaheng asked me to wait for him in Zhaoren, but when he returned, he turned around and became a prince. He was also married to the daughter of the prime minister's family, and he only waited for the queen to get married.
On the night of the wedding ceremony, the idiot prince from the East Palace touched my red and swollen eyes, blue veins popped out on my forehead, climbed up on He Jiaheng's wall, hid the arrow in his sleeve, and held my hand: "Do you want him alive or dead?"
I struggled desperately and shook my head wildly.
"Can't bear to part with it?"
He shot an arrow with a whoosh, hitting He Jiaheng's left atrium.
Concept: Love is different from possession.