Asher Gu returned to Rong's house in the afternoon.
As soon as he entered the room, he saw Young Master Rong, who was sleeping soundly, sitting in the flower hall with his long legs resting on the railing. He was bored and half-closed his eyes as he teased a beautiful and shy rose, poking its dark red petals with the muzzle of a gun.
He brought out the gramophone, and a low, hoarse, melodious female voice was playing.
Fragments of thick golden light leaked through the tangled vines, sharply and mottledly cutting Chase Rong's sharp and handsome eyebrows. He glanced lightly and fixed his eyes on Asher Gu's figure.
"Going out?" Chase Rong raised his eyebrows.
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