The scarlet hijab pressed down heavily, and his vision was fragmented by this scarlet scarlet.
Shen Qiyin sat on the carved wooden chair and felt a little sore in his neck.
She raised her hand to support the crumbling phoenix crown, and her fingertips brushed against the cold emerald green. She did not show the shyness of a newlywed, but instead seemed to be inspecting a newly unearthed antique corpse.
"Third sister, don't blame your father for being cruel."
A crying female voice came from outside the hijab, accompanied by the rustling of silk.
That's sister Shen Mingyue.
Through the gap in the red gauze, Shen Qiyin could only see the tip of Shen Mingyue's embroidered shoe exposed under the hem of her skirt, grinding anxiously on the floor tiles.
