Hearing Xue Yiren's words, Song Qingshu froze. His first thought was that something about him had been exposed, but when he saw that the other man's gaze was not directed at him, but at the person standing atop the courtyard wall, he realized Xue Yiren had mistaken that person for him.
Song Qingshu had recognized at once that the newcomer was Zhao Min disguised as a man. They had been friends for so long, and not long ago they had spent every day together learning the qin. He was intimately familiar even with Zhao Min's bearing, footsteps, and breathing. Even with a mask on, she could not fool his eyes.
As for why Xue Yiren had mistaken her for him, it was most likely because he saw the silver mask on Zhao Min's face. Song Qingshu sometimes wore one while traveling the martial world to avoid trouble. Few people knew of it, but the Imperial City Department was the intelligence agency of an empire; learning something like this was hardly surprising.
Shen Biqun, on the other hand, curiously studied the "man" on the courtyard wall. In recent years, Song Qingshu's name had spread throughout the land. Even she, sheltered deep within her chambers, had long heard of him. Moreover, Sang Feihong's Five Lakes Sect had greatly publicized his exploits through storytellers and operas. Ladies and daughters of wealthy Jiangnan families often discussed him after tea and meals, so even Shen Biqun, who had never been interested in martial affairs, had become curious about him.
Especially her close friend Lu Wushuang—whenever she mentioned Song Qingshu, she looked as though her heart were racing, portraying him as an unrivaled hero of the age. That only made Shen Biqun more interested in this legendary man. Now that she had fallen into the clutches