My Hand Slipped

However, a sneer appeared quickly on Ji Linghui's face.

So what if they failed? Even if she was lucky and had managed to get away this time, what about next time? Or the time after the next?

Once the House of Swallow Snow got involved, they would stop at nothing.

Ji Linghui felt better at this thought. She touched the bangle on her wrist, which her father had sent back to her, and lifted her hand to pat the white pigeon. "Go on, return to your master."

The white pigeon flapped its wings as if it understood her words, and flew off.

Ji Linghui watched the pigeon flew a distance before turning to return to her room.

The next day, Tianzhu Mountain.

Master Qingzhen would be conducting five days of Buddhist chants, which was why the Dowager Duchess continued going to Tianzhu Temple after having breakfast.

This time, she did not let Lu Liangwei see her off. Aunt Lan accompanied her up to the mountain.