Rong Qingqing was waiting for him to leave the doorway. As he approached, she sprang onto the desk, crawled across, jumped to the ground, and bolted out the door in a flash.
The fluidity of her leap left Shen Jue dumbfounded.
Could Rong Qingqing actually be that agile?
Shen Jue chuckled, then turned his gaze to the painting Qingqing had just been working on.
At a glance, his face turned black.
Focusing on the crooked writing in the bottom right corner, Shen Jue's expression darkened further.
"Rong! Qing! Qing!" Shen Jue now confirmed that what she had been mumbling while painting earlier was indeed about him; he hadn't heard wrong.
After Rong Qingqing dashed out of the study, she hurried down the stairs and collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, panting heavily.
"Sister Qingqing, did you just run down from upstairs?" Shen Qiao was stunned, "Why didn't you take the elevator? Were you being chased by a ghost?"
