Hearing Yang Mengchen's successive questions, Long Xuanmo felt a sudden pang of alarm and annoyance. He had overlooked all of these matters back then.
Seeing the colors of self-blame between Long Xuanmo's brows, Yang Mengchen let out a silent sigh.
In truth, Long Xuanmo couldn't be blamed for this. After all, at the time, he was only a thirteen-year-old boy, and he had been on the battlefield since he was ten. Moreover, the manipulations within the harem have always been sordid and secretive; it was normal for him not to have thought of these things.
"Prince, there is no need to blame yourself. Once I cure Yingtong's vocal cords, we may be able to find out what happened that night, and thereby uncover the culprit who harmed her. Besides, the Prince can also start by investigating the source of the secret poison."