The sun was already high in the sky when Pei Shaoqing finally woke.
He turned his head to look. Xie Qingwu was reclining on a low couch across from the bed, a cooling mat spread beneath her. She was reading a book, one hand holding it while the other propped up her chin, her elbow resting on a small table. Her figure was exquisite, her curves alluring; beneath her dress, she was curvy in all the right places. Her two small, fair, bare feet were crossed over each other.
"You're awake." Xie Qingwu seemed to sense him stirring and turned to look at him, then added, "Zheng Xuancheng is dead?"
"Who told you?" Pei Shaoqing raised an eyebrow.
Xie Qingwu put down her book and adjusted the light gauze of her dress, which had slipped to reveal the straps of her bodice. She answered nonchalantly, "Does someone need to tell me? I guessed it the moment you dismissed all the servants."
