The commotion was still some distance from the prison cells. Song Qingshu could only hear it faintly, while Lu Guanying had no idea what was happening at all.
"White Lotus Society?" Song Qingshu's heart tightened. Why had the White Lotus Society come to trouble the Mongols? Had they mistaken the people in Yuqing Temple for the Southern Song delegation?
The more Song Qingshu thought about it, the more likely it seemed. After Wang Baobao took control of Yuqing Temple, he immediately sealed off all news from getting out while creating the appearance that nothing had happened. It was hardly strange that the White Lotus Society had not learned of the changes.
I wonder if Zhiruo came too. Thinking of the countless experts under Wang Baobao's command, Song Qingshu could not help worrying.
While Song Qingshu was lost in thought, Lu Guanying stared at the brocade handkerchief in his hand, trembling all over. His wife had painstakingly embroidered it for him stitch by stitch. How could he fail to recognize it?
This sort of token of affection had always been carried close by his wife. Yet it was now in the arms of the man before him. What could have happened between them was obvious without saying!
"Why do you have that?" Though he had already guessed eight or nine parts out of ten, Lu Guanying still clung to a sliver of hope, hoping to hear a different answer from the other man.
"Hm?" Noticing his intense reaction, Song Qingshu looked down and hurriedly tucked the handkerchief back into his robes, taking out another one instead. "Sorry, I took the wrong one."
That handkerchief was Cheng Yaojia's personal possession. He could not bear to let anyone else scribble all over it.
"You!" Lu Guanying nearly coughed up blood at his actions.