"You don't have to talk if no one thinks you're mute," Shui Sheng snorted. "I'm going to sleep for a while. Don't blame me for not warning you—if you start yelling and draw the guards over, I'm dead anyway. I'll definitely stab you first. At worst, we'll die together." Shui Sheng raised the knife she had just taken from her boot.
Looking at the gleaming dagger before him, Song Qingshu asked curiously, "Then why didn't you stab me to death earlier? Wouldn't that have kept me from revealing your whereabouts?"
Shui Sheng's pretty face reddened. His mouth may be a little nasty, but he's treated me fairly well. How could I bring myself to hurt him...
"Ah, I get it!" Song Qingshu cried. "You must have seen how young and handsome I am, and how skilled I am in martial arts, so you've already secretly given me your heart... Mmph... mmph..."
Shui Sheng jumped at his sudden outburst, then found his nonsense both infuriating and amusing. Unable to stand it any longer, she pulled out her embroidered handkerchief and stuffed it into Song Qingshu's mouth.
"Finally, some peace and quiet..." Shui Sheng let out a long breath, lay down on the soft bed, tucked herself beneath the quilt, and closed her eyes blissfully...
In her sleep, Shui Sheng began to feel cold. Unconsciously, she leaned back toward a warm spot behind her. It felt like a warm bearskin coat, so she curled herself into a ball and let it cover her completely.
She shoved away the leg draped over her waist, then pointed at Song Qingshu with a deathly pale face. "You... you... you..." She could not even form a complete sentence.
"Miss Shui, I warned you. You should be careful not to get into the wrong bed." Song Qingshu