Ning Qing peeked inside. The gilded incense burner with carved flowers was emitting white smoke, making the whole room look half real and half fake.
She was afraid and regretted following him in a moment of rashness. But looking at Butler Lu's cold face, she knew that she could not regret it.
Taking a deep breath, ning Qing stepped in.
She took two steps and closed the door.
"They're here."
A man was lying on a reclining chair with a thick wool blanket covering his body. His face was still as stern and emotionless as ever, and his eyes were deep and sharp. He looked very similar to Nian lie, except that he looked a little sickly.
A slender woman sat beside him. She wore a cheongsam all year round and her posture was graceful and gentle, but ning Qing knew that it was just an illusion.
Song Wan looked up flirtatiously. She wasn't in the mood to reminisce about the past and pointed at the seat over there.
"Have a seat."
