"Situ." Mu Qingli waved at him.
Situ Jingliang spoke slowly, "Lili." His voice was raspy from disuse, but it wasn't unpleasant—deep, gentle, and as soothing as the sound of a cello.
Mu Qingli pointed to the chair nearby and said, "Why are you standing here fishing? Isn't there a chair right there?"
Situ Jingliang responded, "I've sat enough in my earlier life." His tone wasn't heavy; instead, it carried a sense of lightness and relief.
Mu Qingli didn't stand on ceremony and continued, "Well, if you're not going to sit, then I will." She was nearly exhausted from walking all day.
Smiling, Situ Jingliang said, "Please, have a seat. Butler, could you bring some fruit and beverages over?"
"Certainly." The butler nodded with a smile. As he turned to walk away, he stealthily extended his right leg in front of Mu Qingli's advancing right foot. She didn't expect the butler to suddenly stick out his leg; she lost her balance suddenly, and lunged forward violently!