His Highness’ Weak Spot?

"Your... Your Highness..." A trembling voice was heard from the dark corner. The man leaning on the chair of the imperial consort narrowed his eyes. He didn't shift his sight away from the glass in his hand. He lifted the glass gracefully and sniffed the aroma under his nose.

The monks looked at each other's face and cold sweat dripped down from their foreheads. Even if they could drive away the witchcraft and recite Buddhist sutras, they could not find out how profound His Highness's magic power was.

"Speak up, what were the sutras you read in the big wedding?" Baili Jia Jue propped his head with one hand while holding a Buddhist Sutra in the other hand. He did not even look at the monks, but quietly flipped through the Scripture pages in his hands. His tone was neither cold nor indifferent. "Don't tell me that those were the blessings. My ears are not bad yet."