"Alright, alright—it's fine," Mei Liang soothed gently, her hand patting Lánxīn's trembling back. "Our little Lánxīn must have been frightened half to death seeing me like that."
Hearing her mistress's words, Cuìyù reluctantly loosened her grip on Lánxīn. Though calmer than Lánxīn, her heart was equally unsettled. Mei Liang had appeared perfectly fine when they left the palace, and even at their first rest stop she had shown no sign of weakness. The sudden collapse had struck them both with fear, shattering their sense of calm.
Once Lánxīn's sobs subsided, she slowly lifted her head. Her cheeks were flushed a soft blossom-pink, like petals brushed with morning dew. Mei Liang arched a brow, her lips curving in gentle amusement. "Oh? Our little Lánxīn has grown shy, hasn't she?"
"Mistress is making fun of Lánxīn again! I won't talk to you anymore," Lánxīn pouted, turning her rosy face away.
