C170 A Painting of the Murderer of Light Wool

Jiang Zhao didn't mind her being so noisy, but rather that she was too noisy. Everyone had already fallen asleep at this hour, and Ye'er had entered into her dreams. The door was being slammed heavily, and when he went to open the door, he heard Ye'er asking in a daze, "Who's coming?"

Jiang Zhao's brow tightened. How irritating.

Qingxiu was calling for Jiang Zhao's help