"I don't believe you for a second!" Jiang Li scowled.
Jing Ruo remained silent, and simply lay on the bar, pretending to be drunk.
It wasn't until she heard the sound of Jiang Li's departing footsteps that Jing Ruo buried her face in her arms and let out a long sigh.
She was playful, but not just for the sake of being playful—her involvement with Tang Cheng wasn't without reason. Tang Cheng was more well-informed than she was about Beijing's goings-on.
And those genuine sons and daughters of the wealthy households of Beijing, to a lesser or greater extent, all took an interest in her and Bo Jingshen, the likes of them whose origins were, to put it mildly, unconventional. Without saying whether it was a malicious interest, it was an interest, nevertheless.
It was the kind of interest akin to a cat teasing a mouse.
Like Bo Jingshen, she, too, was born of an unconventional background—a child born out of wedlock.
