"White dove."
Zhao Ji walked lightly to the front of the armored woman, yawning. She took the white dove from her hand, combed its feathers nonchalantly, and walked back to the bed.
"Zhao Gao can't be trusted. You should know that."
"This is what Wei Liao said through Zhao Gao's mouth."
Zhao Ji paused, stopped stroking the pigeon, and said to the Iron-faced Woman with her back turned: "Wei Liao... you can give it a try. How are you going to find that boy?"
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