An Jing's studio actually resembled a small, cozy bar.
She had plenty of friends, so many would often come to her studio to drink, paint, and discuss the wild fantasies in their minds.
Yu Yanshen had been there a few times, though his visits were always brief.
By the time he arrived, it had already turned completely dark. Upon opening the door to the studio, he was greeted by a faint, clean fragrance.
Yu Yanshen found a spot to sit and loosened his collar.
"No one's here now, so speak," he said.
An Jing glanced at him, pursed her lips, and passed him a glass of water.
"What I want to talk about concerns your father."
Yu Yanshen had anticipated this. He did not respond and waited for An Jing to continue.
"He has guessed it, no, he's certain that it was our An Family and you who orchestrated this charade. Earlier today, he confronted my father, warning that he wouldn't let him off easily."
An Jing's voice was like the stream in summer, quiet and cool.
