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The courtesan from Xianle Inn, believed to be dead, had suddenly appeared before his own eyes—could there be anything more absurd than this?
If she was Mo Qianxue, then what was the deal with the female corpse lying at the Yamen?
Moreover, Xiao Hen was absolutely certain he had never met Mo Qianxue, so who did Mo Qianxue mistake him for?
In an instant, countless doubts flashed through Xiao Hen's mind.
A chord in his heart was tightly strung, giving him the feeling that he might have unwittingly stumbled upon some truth.
When Xiao Hen didn't wish his emotions to be seen, no one could penetrate his facade. He immediately reined in his thoughts, entering a state of acquaintance with Mo Qianxue, "But I heard that the courtesan of Xianle Inn was dead."
"Just a scapegoat died," Mo Qianxue said nonchalantly.
This was a very secret matter, yet Mo Qianxue seemed to have no scruples or fear discussing it in front of him.
Xiao Hen watched her, expressionless.