Song Qingshu had a headache. What the hell was this, in broad daylight under the clear skies...
He subconsciously looked up, only then remembering that it was already nighttime. People in ancient times had no television to watch or phones to play with at night, so what else were they supposed to do?
A few years ago, Song Qingshu might have had some interest in peeping, but now he had no such leisure. Shaking his head, he continued searching for Hua Zheng's room, only to return shortly afterward with a strange expression.
This was Hua Zheng's room.
Song Qingshu had met Hua Zheng a few times before and had been deeply impressed by her haggard appearance. Knowing that she had been heartbroken over Guo Jing, he had subconsciously assumed that Guo Jing filled her heart.
Yet now, he discovered that she was enjoying herself...
For some reason, Song Qingshu felt extremely displeased. It had nothing to do with him; he merely felt that Guo Jing was not worth this. But then again, Guo Jing had abandoned her first. She owed him nothing, and what she chose to do was her freedom.
He decided to come back another time, but after a while, he returned again.
"Take a look. What if the person inside isn't Hua Zheng? Wouldn't that mean I had misunderstood her? If I went and spoke ill of her before Guo Jing, that would be a sin." Song Qingshu opened a tiny gap and peered inside.
He saw a man and woman entwined intimately. The man's body was powerfully built, his back covered in scars, yet they gave him a distinct masculine charm. The woman's hair was full of the small braids unique to the Mongols, and her skin was pale and fair. It was apparent that she