Never mind the trivial affairs of the Xiao Mansion.
In North City, Kangning Street was brightly lit. The curfew had yet to begin, and talented scholars and beautiful ladies came and went in small groups.
Some walked in company, others found romantic spots under the moon, taking advantage of the clear night to compose and recite poetry with a scholarly air.
Outside the mounting shop.
On a carriage bearing the red flag of the Xiao Mansion, a coachman leaned against the carriage wall, arms crossed, his eyes darting about.
He glanced from one person to another, almost overwhelmed by the sights.
Just then, a hand landed on his shoulder. "Old Luo, if you keep gawking like that, you'd better hope the young ladies don't notice."
The coachman, Old Luo, jumped in fright. When he saw it was Liu Si'er, he immediately began to grumble:
"Brother Si, why do you move around like a ghost?"
