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"Ping—"

Meng Fuyao fell onto the mattress and flopped as if she were a dead fish.

Feeling something warm and soft beneath her, she hurriedly felt around, afraid that she had fallen onto Zhangsun Wuji's body. Suddenly, she heard a low chuckle as someone said, "What are you feeling about for?"

The voice was low and gentle, smooth as a ball of silk yarn which spun around and around in the darkness of the night, causing one's limbs to feel weak.

Meng Fuyao stiffened and retracted her hands as she laughed sheepishly and replied, "I lost some money, so I came down to look for it, it's not with you? Sorry, sorry, I've disturbed you."

She still couldn't bring herself to look at Zhangsun Wuji and got up to leave. However, she felt herself being pulled by someone against another person's body. She could smell the faint fragrance of various medicinal herbs as it wafted around her.