Ji Qingrong had wanted Ji Qingwu to stay for dinner, but she declined.
The thought of eating at the same table with the inseparable couple, forcing her way into their private world, made Ji Qingwu feel inexplicably awkward.
「After leaving Duke Zhongyong's Mansion.」
As she sat in the carriage, Ji Qingwu began to ponder the events of the morrow.
Upon returning to Wutong Garden, she changed into a casual, light blue, wide-sleeved dress. She then sat by the low kang table near the window, resting her chin on her hand in contemplation.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when someone else entered the room.
Her expression was solemn. The lamplight didn't cast a soft, hazy glow upon her; instead, it made her look like a soldier about to march into battle.
"What are you thinking about so intently?"
Someone suddenly caressed her face, and Ji Qingwu shrank back toward the window in alarm.
