Zhou Weiqing naturally did not know that his father was still laughing maniacally to himself behind. Escaping a beating this time, he was already very satisfied. Without any delay, he rushed back to his tent; he did not have much to pack up anyway, and thus he jumped into bed to have a good sleep.
Right at this moment, he heard an almost ghostly voice from outside: “Zhou Little Fatty, you’re back?”
Zhou Weiqing got a fright and quickly jumped off his bed: “Who’s there? It’s late at night, don’t scare me!”
As the tent flap raised up, Shangguan Bing’er entered, dressed in a cotton outfit. Her expression seemed very peaceable, without the usual cold mask she wore, but without knowing why, the Shangguan Bing’er of today caused Zhou Weiqing to have a very uneasy feeling in his heart. “Bing’er, what’s wrong?” Zhou Weiqing asked with trepidation.