Song Yiren tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep. As long as she thought about Zhan Yihan coming to propose marriage tomorrow, she would fume with rage between gritted teeth.
"No, I must not let Su Jinyue get away with it." Song Yiren sat up, climbed off the bed, and hopped over to her chest of drawers on one leg. Opening the chest of drawers, she reached her hand in and fished out a handkerchief that was wrapped around something.
Song Yiren's eyes narrowed as she looked at the handkerchief in her hand, her gaze slightly vicious. Taking a deep breath, she unwrapped the handkerchief layer by layer. Inside, there was a bamboo flute. The bamboo flute was as short as a little finger, with delicate engravings on it. If one examined it closely, the pattern resembled a poppy in full bloom.