"You... you're... it's you..." Xue Baochai stared at him in shock, so flustered that she could barely form a coherent sentence.
Song Qingshu understood her nonetheless. "That's right. It's me."
"So it was you!" Xue Baochai gritted her pearly teeth, drew her sword, and lunged at him in a fury.
With a flick of Song Qingshu's finger, she could no longer hold her sword. It fell to the ground beside her, its blade still trembling.
"I know my martial arts are far inferior to yours, and I can't avenge him. If you want to kill me, then kill me!" Xue Baochai's face went pale, then flushed, as she resigned herself and raised her slender, snow-white neck.
Song Qingshu said calmly, "I think you've misunderstood. I wasn't the one who killed Jia Baoyu." He naturally knew why she was so furious, so he went straight to the point.
"If you didn't kill him, then who did?" Xue Baochai said bitterly. "You killed him, impersonated him, infiltrated the Jia family, gathered intelligence to use against them, and in the end, the Jia family at the height of its power fell apart."
What was even more hateful was that he had later pretended to be Jia Baoyu, making her throw herself at him again and again. Of course, she could not bring herself to say that aloud.
Song Qingshu shook his head. "Miss Xue, you're a clever woman. You should remember whether I returned to Jia Mansion as Jia Baoyu before or after the events at Wudang Mountain."
Xue Baochai froze. Only then did she recall that he had arrived at Jia Mansion afterward. By then, the Jia family's ruin had already been inevitable, so there had indeed been no need for him to gather intelligence.
Still, she snorted. "Who knows what you