Xia Houqing licked the blood from his lower lip in boredom. He suddenly stood up and lazily said,
"It's getting late. I'm tired."
Xia Houqing left just like that, walking away with the tung oil umbrella.
Other than the sleeves that had been cut off, his red robe was not stained by the mud and snow on the ground.
The silver-haired old man followed closely behind.
They did not leave the manor and continued to stay here, as if they were just ordinary passersby.
It was cold, and Chu Yi and Gu Yanfei did not sit in the pavilion for long. They walked towards the main courtyard together.
Gu Yuan and Si Hai followed behind them.
Towards the end, she felt a faint smell of gunpowder lingering at the tip of her nose. Her steps were unsteady, and she was still a little shocked by the calamity.
