A stone causes a thousand ripples.
The maids and old women in the courtyard exchanged glances.
Their eyes were like ripples on a lake, filled with wild thoughts.
The maids held their breath, listening intently, trying to discern whose panting was coming from the creaking of the bed in the room.
To gather around and eavesdrop on their master's affairs in broad daylight, no other household would do this.
The Master and Madam were both inside the room.
The Old Madam would not come.
The Third Young Master and Second Miss did not dare to come.
They felt secure in their actions.
"Qing He is here," a maid whispered.
Everyone looked over and still saw the tear marks on Qing He's face.
She was the maid hurriedly sent by the Third Madam, driven out from the Third Master's bed.
Seeing her stumbling steps, frowning with each move, the little maids, untouched by such affairs, thought she was just showing off.
