Shen Tang made money: she wrung every last coin from it.
Xun Zhen squandered money: he spent it like mud and sand.
Thanks to Xun Hanzhang, she was still saddled with an enormous debt. Any gold, silver, or copper coins that belonged to her would be forcibly taken to fill that bottomless pit. The only consolation was that daily necessities were exempt; otherwise, she'd have to wear the sky as her clothes and the earth as her pants.
If anyone asked, she could only shamelessly imitate Liu Ling and make a wild declaration: "Gentlemen, why have you climbed into my pants?"
Everyone had to die someday, but it couldn't be a social death.
The crimson fox-fur cloak Qin Li had delivered on someone else's behalf now belonged to her.
Everyone loved beauty, and even Shen Tang, with her eccentric taste, was captivated by the cloak's loveliness. It was soft and fluffy, and she wanted nothing more than to throw it over her shoulders and try it on right then and there. But with Qin Li still present, she couldn't indulge herself. "Sigh, Wenzhu really put his heart into this."
Once she'd paid off her debt, she'd have to seize the chance to enjoy herself. If she was too slow, who knew when Xun Zhen would rack up another debt? Reluctantly, Shen Tang had someone set the cloak aside. She asked a couple of questions about the situation in Heyin, though what she really wanted to know was whether that old rascal Wu Xian had given Xu Xie a hard time. Xu Xie had gone to the trouble of sending her a precious crimson fox-fur cloak, hadn't he? He was afraid Shen Tang might accidentally forget him.
How could Qin Li not know what she was thinking? He smiled faintly. "Da