Ji Qingwu thought of the slap mark on Duan Mingfeng's face.
Mo Lingling said indignantly, "I had just gotten Miss Jiu Jiu to sleep when, out of nowhere, a flower thief dropped in."
Ji Qingwu had walked a long way, and her legs still felt a little unsteady. She did her best not to let it show as she held onto the back of a chair and sat down.
She said, "How were you so sure he was a flower thief? What if he was a guest, or someone who had business with you?"
'What if it was Duan Mingfeng?'
Mo Lingling recalled, "The man was dressed in all black and wore a mask."
She took a seat across from Ji Qingwu. "Besides, what kind of decent person shows up in the middle of the night? And he didn't even use the front door—he came in through the window near the eaves."
Ji Qingwu propped her chin on her hand. "How did you handle the flower thief? He didn't... do anything to you?"
