Knock, knock, knock.
The door was knocked on politely.
Then came a cautious, childlike voice, as furtive as a thief's: "Sister Qingyu, is anyone there?"
Crash, bang, clatter—the room erupted in a flurry of noise.
Very soon, it fell quiet again.
Creak—
The door opened.
Ye Qingyu stood gracefully by the door, ethereal and untouched by worldly dust, yet her smile was incomparably gentle. "How did you know I was here?"
Her eyes were mountain springs, her slender brows the moon in the sky.
When she smiled, it was as though moonlight flowed through the forest.
So clear, so lovely.
Jiang An'an had long been accustomed to such beauty. She looked around furtively, then grinned mischievously. "I just ran into Uncle Ye. He said a thief had broken into the room and told Little Hero Jiang to bring them to justice... So I knew it was you!"
Ye Qingyu's face flushed, part embarrassed and part annoyed.
That old Ye! This young lady had merely come to look up some intelligence on the White Bone Sect. She had arrived in a hurry and forgotten to say so—that was all. How could he call her a "thief"?
The Pavilion Master could come to this secret tower, but the Young Pavilion Master could not?
Without drawing notice, she slipped the rolled-up intelligence from her sleeve into her Storage Box. Her expression turned solemn as she looked seriously at little An'an. "Big Sister came here to find books to read. What a coincidence—did you come for that too?"
As she spoke, she was already preparing to turn back and introduce the place. "There are so many medical classics here, recording all kinds of acupoints and meridians, all sorts of medicinal properties and ratios. There are also many historical classics—the sort where one character can