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She was the one who wanted to break it off.

She was the one who put on airs, thinking she was the loved one, and felt entitled to casually dictate the relationship between herself and Young Master.

She was the one who was selfish and cowardly, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of being wounded. To ensure her own safe retreat and avoid being the one abandoned, she arbitrarily decided to nip this strange relationship in the bud right at the very beginning.

Then why was she still expecting?

Expecting that Young Master would not give up, and would not willingly leave her easily.

How despicable.

Her wishful thinking fell through, didn't it?

Zhu Bafu, you have been abandoned. What a pretentious and cowardly wretch.

She raised a hand to knead her aching shoulder blades, then lowered her head and bent over to pick up another stone brick, when a pair of pinkish-red embroidered shoes stepped into her field of vision. A faint, elegant fragrance of cosmetics brushed past the tip of her nose, and before she could even raise her head, a warm, brisk, and gender-neutral soft voice grazed her ear.

"May I ask if you are Lord Zhu Bafu of the Minister of Works?"

"I am he." With the back of her scholarly sleeve, she wiped the fine sweat from her face and suddenly raised her head. The next moment, she was dumbfounded—

The woman who looked like a blooming flower before her was taller than her, a boy dressed as a man, by more than a head. Yet her figure was as slender as a willow, her waistline exquisite and ethereal, embodying both elegance and glamour. Wearing light makeup, she fully displayed soft eyebrows and charming pupils, moving with lotus-like dainty steps and overflowing with ultra-feminine charm. Seeing