Even though Pucha Qiucao was trembling with fear, his words still made her pretty face flush crimson with anger. "Shameless!"
Song Qingshu froze, then cried out in protest, "Heaven and earth bear witness, I only suggested discussing this back on the bed because you aren't wearing anything and are wrapped in nothing but a blanket, so it would be inconvenient for you to go out. It wasn't what you thought!"
Of course, Song Qingshu also realized that his words had been highly ambiguous. He could only blame the suddenness of what had happened, along with the excessive drinking at the earlier banquet, which had made his reaction half a beat slower than usual.
But Pucha Qiucao did not see it that way. Having just had her precious chastity taken by the man before her, then suddenly discovering that he had concealed such a shocking secret, Song Qingshu was no different from a demon in her eyes. How could she dare believe him? She took his words only as deceitful coaxing. In her panic, she stopped caring about anything and charged outside, shouting as she ran, "Someone, the Marshal has—"
Before she could finish, Song Qingshu struck her acupoint.
Looking at the woman who had gone limp and fallen to the floor, a flash of murderous intent crossed Song Qingshu's eyes. "You wouldn't listen when I tried to reason with you. Since that's the case, don't blame me for being rude."
Just then, several guards rushed over from outside. "What happened?" Some soldiers had ultimately heard Pucha Qiucao's earlier cry.
"Nothing. Stand down," Song Qingshu barked in Tang Kuobian's voice.
"Yes, Marshal. Please rest well." Recognizing his voice, the soldiers hurriedly withdrew.
There was one benefit to being in a high position: one only needed to give orders, without explaining anything