The interior of the carriage was dim, making it nearly impossible to discern the faces.
Yet Gu Qinglan couldn't help but glance at Zhong Chuchu.
Zhong Chuchu truly appeared fragile, unlike Gu Yulan's feigned frailness.
She was very thin, her complexion pale, as if a gust of wind could blow her away.
But there was nothing in the way she leaned against the carriage door that resembled a sickly person; it even carried a hint of defiance.
Gu Qinglan's back stiffened involuntarily, and she refrained from speaking.
Even though Zhong Chuchu spoke thus, she still found it hard to believe.
Her uncle, Gu Ling, was an exceptionally elegant and charming figure, unmatched in the Capital City.
Moreover, she had caught Zhong Chuchu looking at her uncle more than once, and she understood that kind of gaze.
"Why are you so tense?" Zhong Chuchu glanced at her and smiled, "I'm not going to do anything to you."
Gu Qinglan lowered her eyes and softly said, "My uncle is already betrothed."
