"Back from reviewing your troops, my dear husband? Why not send the elites of your Mao Camp to the capital to cleanse the court and execute the wicked consort?"
As Pei Shaoqing entered, Xie Qingwu teased him with a grin. She had already put her book away and was now lying on her side on the daybed, propping her head up with one hand.
"The Mao Camp is newly established; it's not ready for such a major undertaking," Pei Shaoqing replied with a straight face. He sat down beside her and shouted toward the door, "Bring water! I want to wash my feet."
"Young Master." A moment later, Zhao Zilan, dressed in an emerald-green gown, pushed open the door and entered carrying a basin of water.
Xie Qingwu glanced at her coolly. She could, of course, see that the young woman had been trying her best to cozy up to Pei Shaoqing lately, but she chose to turn a blind eye.
First, she and Pei Shaoqing weren't actually husband and wife.
