Han Jing was lying on the soft couch under the flower window, squinting her eyes, letting the sunlight pour over her, feeling warm and cozy.
This rare good weather was a blessing; the entire winter in Hanjing City was nearly always damp and cold. The sunlight now was just perfect and utterly comfortable.
Upon hearing An Chuxue's words, she did not open her eyes, merely replied lazily, "Why do you care about them? Let them say what they want. No matter what they say, don't we live on just the same?"
Rumors are such that the more you care, the more they hurt.
Han Jing didn't care at all what others said about her; after all, she didn't know any of those people. She went about her life behind closed doors, who would dare come to the gate of the Princess Mansion to confront her? Ha, they're courting death!
