Song Qingshu returned to his residence and saw that it was nearly noon, yet Li Qingluo and Xiaolongnü had not returned. Feeling thoroughly frustrated, he could only head out again.
The servants of the residence had originally wanted to prepare lunch for him, but Song Qingshu refused. For one thing, this estate had been bestowed upon him by the Southern Song court, and its servants were a mixed lot. Who knew whether spies sent by Wan Qixie, Zhang Jun, and the others lurked among them? They might slip something into his food. Though he no longer feared poison, he had no habit of tormenting himself by eating it.
Besides, he also wanted to take the opportunity to learn more about the customs of Lin'an, so he found a fairly large restaurant.
"Restaurants are where the most incidents get triggered in wuxia novels. I wonder whether I'll run into anything today?" As Song Qingshu entered the restaurant, the thought suddenly crossed his mind. But he immediately laughed at himself. Over the years, he had entered countless restaurants and inns. Though plenty of things had happened, there had been even more times when nothing happened at all. It was merely selective memory.
It was still rather early, and there were not many customers in the restaurant. Song Qingshu found a window seat on the second floor, ordered wine and food, and drank by himself as he considered how to deal with the Censorate next.
He had instinctively dismissed Li Qingluo's earlier suggestion. What a joke—how could a dignified seven-foot man like him use a honey trap? Besides, how could Shi Miyuan, a notorious traitorous minister in history, allow his daughter to influence his judgment?
Unfortunately, no matter how hard he thought, he could not come up with a way to persuade Shi