Qu Hongxiao's courtyard was small and secluded, but the yard itself was kept quite clean.
"Martial Uncle Guu isn't here?"
"My master died."
"..." Zhu Ju said apologetically:
"My condolences."
"It's okay." Qu Hongxiao waved her hand dismissively, a nonchalant look on her face.
"Everyone dies. I'll die, you'll die. I was only sad for a little while."
She pinched her index finger and thumb together, giggling.
"That's true."
Zhu Ju nodded, studying Qu Hongxiao before him.
'This woman really is different from ordinary people. She clearly struggles to take care of herself.'
Her long, unkempt hair fell in tangled strands down her back, and her clothes were ragged and torn.
Her shoes, however, were very new and clean, but they didn't fit properly.
He asked,
"How did you get by before?"
During the joint sect gathering, Qu Hongxiao had been dressed so normally that he'd failed to notice her mental state.
