Tang Saier had not expected him to understand the White Lotus Society so thoroughly. Her heart tightened, and she hurriedly replied, "All right, I'll make the arrangements at once."
"Wait," Song Qingshu called after her. "If you need me, you can come directly to Prince of Qi's Mansion. But what if I need you? I can't keep taking such a roundabout route every time."
Tang Saier hesitated, then took a short flute from her robes, similar to Wei Ruolan's earlier one. "If you wish to find me, Young Master, use this flute to make a sound. Any nearby disciples who hear it will pass word to me."
"Different melodies stand for different messages?" He might not have eaten pork before, but surely he had seen pigs run. There had been so many bizarre coded communication methods in films and television from his previous life that Song Qingshu refused to believe this flute had no similar function.
Tang Saier had not expected him to understand so much. Left with no choice, she picked up the flute and demonstrated. "Blowing it like this means an urgent emergency... like this means danger... like this means..."
Ever since meeting Song Qingshu, she had constantly been led around by the nose by him, which left the prideful woman deeply displeased. So she deliberately rattled off a long list of White Lotus Society's internal signals, wanting to see him make a fool of himself.
After all, even the cleverest people within the White Lotus Society needed ten days to half a month to master these complicated signals one by one. Now that she had poured them all out at once, like beans spilling from a jar, Tang Saier could already imagine Song Qingshu awkwardly asking her for guidance.
At the thought of his frustrated expression, Tang