Wanxia pulled up Lin Chu's pajama sleeve, countless bruises winding across her fair skin, "This doesn't count," the chill and sarcasm in her eyes were undisguised, "Does it only count if you're dead?"
Lin Chu didn't mind at all, squinting her eyes with a smile, "Did you use your looks to plead with Gu Shaozhi for help?"
Actually, as long as she saw her son, she wouldn't want to die.
But after her son went to kindergarten, being alone, she was a bit afraid she'd lose hope.
Wanxia ignored the teasing in Lin Chu's eyes, speaking coolly, "That's none of your business to worry about."
The ointment was brought in by a servant, its pale yellow paste had a refreshing mint scent. Wanxia applied it gently, finishing one arm before switching to the other.
"Xiao Chu, what does he think you did?"
The question came suddenly, its meaning was vague, but Lin Chu understood.
The silence stretched too long, long enough for Wanxia to finish applying ointment on both her legs.
