章 92: Killing in the Woodshed of the Smithy

The big black umbrella was like a black lotus, slowly flowing in the rain in the city of Chang'an.

Sangsang did not know when she had let go of his sleeve. Raising her face and furrowing her brows, she asked, "Young master, what did you say to Xiaoman before in the Princess's Mansion? Those palace nannies and imperial maids looked blue in the face."

Ning Que looked at the little girl, who pretended to be calm, and could not help thinking of the recurring moments during those years on Min Mountain. He had carried her from one peak to another, and from one cottage to another, while he was very busy exploring the way and telling fairy tales to lull the little girl in the basket on his back. Now, he could not help rubbing her head with a smile, and said, "Telling fairy tales... You know that's what I'm good at."

"Which one, Cinderella or The Three Little Pigs?" asked Sangsang with curiosity. 

"The Little Prince."