Song Qingshu hurriedly hid to one side and peered through a crack in the window. Inside, a lavishly dressed Mongol nobleman was fawning over Zhao Min. Judging by his attire, he was not of princely rank, yet the number of attendants he had brought and the manner in which he spoke were in no way inferior to those of the other princes.
"I already have someone I love. I can only disappoint Brother Nachen's kind intentions," Zhao Min said apologetically.
Outside the window, Song Qingshu felt as though he had eaten the fruit of immortality. There was not a single part of him that did not feel utterly pleased.
The nobleman sneered. "Do you mean Ming Cult Master Zhang Wuji, or that Golden Snake King, Song Qingshu? Whichever one it is, neither was by your side when you needed help most. A man born between heaven and earth cannot even protect his own woman—what kind of man is he?"
Zhao Min gave a soft snort. "A real man has his own ambitions. If he spends every day circling around women, what prospects could he possibly have?"
The nobleman's breath caught. He somehow felt as though she were talking about him, but upon seeing her delicate, breathtakingly beautiful face, he could not summon the slightest anger. "Ordinarily, that is true. But Prince Ruyang's Mansion has suffered such a great calamity this time, and he still did not come to help you. What use is such a beloved?"
"A great calamity?" Zhao Min said flatly. "Although my father was assassinated and met with misfortune, the Great Khan has treated us well, raised the ranks and rewards of my brothers and me, and promised to capture the culprit. How is that a great calamity?"
A flash of anger crossed the nobleman's face. "There