A flash of pleasant surprise lit up Jiang Xinli's doe-like eyes. "When did he get back?"
As she said this, she made to get up and find Sheng Tianze, but Xuan Ying, his face full of jealousy, reached out and pulled her back into his embrace.
"Jiang Xinli, he's resting," Xuan Ying said, his face dark. A bitter haze clouded his ice-blue eyes.
The sound of footsteps ascending in succession came from the distant stairwell.
Xuan Ying's room was the farthest from Jiang Xinli's master bedroom, and also the farthest from the stairwell. But with his exceptionally keen senses, he only needed to listen for a moment to identify one of the four sets of footsteps as Sheng Tianze's.
Sheng Tianze's gait had always been dignified, majestic, and powerful. Even when he had been severely injured in the past, his footsteps had sounded vastly different from an ordinary person's.
Jiang Xinli's hearing wasn't as sharp as Xuan Ying's, so she hadn't noticed.
