"Uh-sure." Sun Ningxiang answered, torn between laughter and tears. She turned her gaze to Yang Jing beside him and nodded with a smile, the corners of her eyes lifting slightly with familiar warmth in greeting.
Yang Jing hurriedly nodded back. "Senior Sister Ningxiang."
Sun Ningxiang smiled with her lips pressed together, then carried her basket toward the kitchen. Her skirt brushed over the bluestone paving, leaving a faint scent of soapberry behind.
Once she was out of earshot, Yang Jing turned to Sun Yong and asked in confusion, "Master, was there something you wanted when you called me here?"
Sun Yong picked up the empty teacup on the table and rubbed it slowly. "A disciple from Pashan Martial Arts Hall came by, saying she had something to ask you. Have you had any dealings with people from their Martial Arts Hall lately? Do you know what this is about?"
Yang Jing frowned slightly. After carefully thinking back for a moment, he shook his head. "I don't know. Apart from my bout with Shen Lie during the Parade Ground Trial, I haven't had any dealings with anyone from the Pashan Martial Arts School."
Sun Yong grunted in acknowledgment and tapped the rim of his cup lightly. Then he suddenly looked up at Yang Jing, his gaze as still as a deep pool. "Then tell me, did you have anything to do with Shen Lie's death?"
"What?"
Yang Jing froze abruptly, instinctively sitting a little straighter. It felt as though something had slammed into his heart, sending a chill flooding through him.
He had never expected his master to ask that so suddenly. He had been meticulous and left not a trace behind. Had he somehow given himself away?
Forcing down his alarm, he hurriedly shook his head, his tone carrying just