Charles fawned, "Miss Qing, with your skills, handling such trivial matters is a real waste of talent."
Miss Qing had her head wrapped in a scarf, wearing the attire of the Miao people, with silver bells tied around her wrists and ankles. Whenever she raised her hand or took a step, there was a crisp ringing of the bells.
Above the roof tiles, Dong Huiying heard the sound of the bells, her expression somewhat dazed. She vaguely felt that this bell sound seemed to have been heard somewhere before…?
She carefully recalled, unraveling the tangled memories of her past and present lives. At that moment, Charles asked again, "Miss Qing has been searching for someone; have you found them yet? It has been many years since we last met."
Miss Qing glanced at Charles indifferently, "Your Dayuan accent is becoming quite authentic. Back when we first met, you had just arrived and could only communicate through gestures."
