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

"My subordinates don't know about this..." The guard glanced at the carriages parked on the other side, feeling a little embarrassed.

Jiang Fu looked calmly and said, "It's okay. I just asked casually and went in first."

"Yes, Miss Jiang, please come in."

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

-

Because there were clouds in the sky, Jiang Fu looked twice and didn't walk very fast.

When he arrived at Zhao Heng's palace, he looked up and saw a man wearing a dragon robe.

The man looked about the same age as Xie Cheng. His hair was tied up with a golden crown, he had sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, and his eyebrows were very dark. He was very handsome.

He looked extremely pale, and he could feel the low pressure on his body before he even stepped forward.

Jiang Fu didn't know who this was. Before he could react, the man had already walked up to her and stopped, his eyes falling on her.

"Are you Jiang Fu?"

The hoarse voice fell, with a sinister tone of unknown meaning.

Jiang Fu raised his eyes, "Who is this?"

This outfit should be that of a prince.

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

The young eunuch 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. He was the person who had been chased by Qingqing for a long time. She lowered her head slightly and lowered her eyelashes lightly, "The daughter of the people has met Your Highness."

Although she lowered her head, she could still feel the cold and sinister look in her eyes.

Not bad looking, but quite fierce.

The man walked in slightly. He stood upright next to Jiang Fu, looked down at her, and said in a low voice, "Miss Jiang is quite capable, she was able to trick my father into this."

Jiang Fu raised his eyes slightly. Behind her were large swaths of fire clouds. The red-orange fire clouds made the girl's skin extremely white, tender and delicate. She raised her eyes, her long eyelashes were like lingering butterfly wings, and her clean black eyes were like There are two clear pools, bottomless, "That one is definitely better than His Highness the Eighth Prince."

"The people who used to chase His Highness now feel unlucky even if they even look at His Highness."

Her voice was soft, low, and slightly mocking, which made Zhao An change his face instantly.

Those clear eyes were fixedly looking at him, slightly bent, half-smiling.

Qingqing is right, it is really unlucky.

There is a big black gas around this Zhao An. Although the color is not very deep, it is very big.

One bad thing after another would come to his door. Although it would not lead to death, it would be enough to make him upset.

"Bold——"

Zhao Anding looked at her steadily and suddenly shouted.

He is his father's biological son, the eighth prince of Xuanwu, how dare you call him unlucky!

The person in front of him was wearing a green shirt, his black hair was simply half pulled up, and his long hair was as smooth as silk hanging down the back of his head.

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

That fair face was facing him like that, smiling lightly, without any trace of fear, as if he was looking at a clown.

"Who told you?" Zhao An stared at her, his tone still very low. He suddenly smiled evilly and said, "Is it Anle?"

"Did she tell you that?"

"She said she felt unlucky when she saw His Highness?"

As if he heard some great joke, the smile on his lips grew 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 hooks his finger, she will come back immediately."