Xuan Yingluo’s eyes lit up. At this moment, the man in the bathroom turned around and she saw the man’s face clearly.
It was not Zhou Yu, but an unfamiliar face. It was a middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man had just showered and his body was wet. When he saw Xuan Yingluo’s face darken, he quickly reprimanded her in displeasure, “Minister Xuan, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to be so rude, barging into other people’s rooms and looking at other people’s privacy.”
Seeing this person, Xuan Yingluo’s previously elated heart quickly sank to the bottom. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Zhou Yu, she was overthinking things.
Zhou Yu had already died in the fire. The fire had caused a collapse, and one of his legs was pressed inside. In that kind of situation, there was absolutely no way anyone could survive.
The abnormality of coming here, the stammering of the two and three, all of these made her daydream. She actually imagined that Zhou Yu was still alive.