"Who, who exactly are you?" The woman asked, trembling.
Fu Zhen focused her gaze, then sat down on the edge of the bed: "I know that the Assistant Minister loves the oil tea made by people from Tanzhou in an alley in the southern city. I also know he has a copper coin-sized, bean-shaped red birthmark on the left side of his back. Who do you think I am?"
The woman looked at her in horror, then scrambled up, not even bothering to put on her shoes, stepping barefoot onto the floor.
"Are you, are you sent by the Assistant Minister?"
Fu Zhen stared at her, arms crossed, saying nothing.
The woman quickly knelt down again: "Lord of the Guards! I dare not neglect the tasks given by the master! I've taken care of the scripture for Miss Liang as instructed!"
Fu Zhen picked up a roll of the scripture, pointing at two nearly invisible faint marks: "Is this what you call taking good care?"
The woman was at a loss for words…
