Since the last big fight, I haven't seen Song Qingci for a long time, but I can see the lively spring palace in the next room.

I know he's doing it on purpose, purposely turning that wall into a two-way mirror.

Intentionally inviting different women back, entwining night after night.

Intentionally opening the iron door crack, letting me hear their ambiguous voices.

I can only look at the mirror wall, kept awake by the noise next door.

All those women, without exception, wore white dresses and had long black hair.

Song Qingci would press them against the mirror, making embarrassing gasps.

Ignoring the moaning and confusion beneath him, he kept staring at the mirror.

I know he's not looking at the mirror, but he's declaring war on me through it.

I run my hand through my messy hair, feeling the hatred spreading.

...

After satisfying his desires, Song Qingci never lets women stay overnight.

Usually just throws some money and sends them off.

But tonight seems a bit different.

Among the women Song Qingci brought back, she looks the most like Zhao Changyang.

And Song Qingci has been entangled with her for a week.

The woman coquettishly said, "Qingci, brother, can you send me home~ It's too late, I'm scared!"

He smiled and threw a pile of banknotes from the cabinet onto the woman's chest, "Not enough?"

The woman tearfully hugged his arm, "Brother, I don't care about money, I just want you to spend more time with me."

Watching her superb acting, paired with that innocent face, I couldn't help but sigh that some money still needs to be earned by professionals.

Song Qingci got up, got dressed, and patted her cheek, "Get dressed, I'll take you!"

"Okay~"

As the door closed, darkness returned indoors.

I sat on the bed in a daze, with a numb face, but my heart was beating wildly.

After a quarter of an hour, I walked towards the door.

Raising my hand, I pushed open the slightly ajar iron door.

I walked into the room still lingering with a hint of ambiguity, looking at the messy bedding and the door within reach.

I crouched down and picked up the phone on the carpet, "Hello, is this 119? Songshan Bie Lin Second Garden is on fire!"

After hanging up the phone, I lit the curtains in the room, then turned back to the confined compartment.