There was a reason as to why Qing Fengyan would roar about Qingjue being hers in such a manner. When Huangfu Qingjue was rushing to Ding Lin Country to seek out Ling Chuxi, he had encountered Qing Fengyan along the way.
That day, the scorching sun was high in the sky and all the passersby in the streets were sweating profusely. One of the teahouses by the roadside had quite good business. Many people had made a stop there to take a rest and drink a cup of cooling herbal tea before going on their way. This teahouse was located under a big tree by the roadside. The tree was so big that even seven or eight people linking arms could not go around the circumference of its trunk, so it was extremely cool under the tree.
In a seemingly simple carriage, Huangfu Qingjue was leaning against the window with his eyelids drooping slightly, reading a book. His features were so perfect and exquisite that even the sight of him was heart palpitating.
