Chu zhaoyue raised his head abruptly and looked back at the man's face. He still hung his head slightly and threw the purple eyes on the scroll. It seemed that he didn't notice the difference of Chu zhaoyue. He didn't notice that the iron chain on his feet just collided with the harsh sound. Or, he had been used to the sound. It was heavy, harsh, the man who imprisoned him, and the voice that shackled his freedom. Who is

? Who is it?

who built such a room and courtyard in the dense forest of the Imperial Palace, and built such a high brown wall outside, trying to hide...