"How did this happen?" An Yuwei hiccupped, cupping his cheek as if he were made of glass. "Just look at you everywhere…"
"It looks worse than it is," he murmured, his voice warm and coaxing. "Don't cry. You know I hate to see a beautiful woman cry."
A moment later, she wiped her face and whispered, "Azhen, are you hungry?"
Mo Yuzhen's eyes glinted mischievously. "Are you offering to feed me? Or are you the one hungry?" he asked, leaning a little closer despite his injuries, his voice lowering into a playful drawl.
"You look like you could use a snack," he teased, "Preferably me."
She went crimson instantly. "A-Azhen! I brought soup!"
"And here I thought you brought yourself for lunch," he teased again, a lazy grin forming.
"A-Azhen…" she mumbled, covering her face.
He laughed softly. "Alright, alright," he said, patting her head gently. "Who did you come with?"
"My agent is outside," she whispered.
