Unlike Zhao Xuhe and Lu Yuanchun, Luo Wuya was not a man driven by lust. He had only been observing the scene in secret with his spiritual perception from the very beginning.
Even so, when he saw the woman who had been as cold and pure as a snow lotus at the banquet now with her robes in disarray, collapsed on the bed like a ravaged flower, with tear stains still tracing her delicate face, the stark contrast stirred a strange feeling within him.
"Junior Sister Yu..."
Luo Wuya took a deep breath. With a wave of his hand, a splendid light enveloped Yu Suzhen, easing the awkward atmosphere between them.
Luo Wuya clearly saw a flicker of relief and gratitude on Yu Suzhen's face.
But soon, her expression shifted to one of helplessness and self-deprecation. "I never thought I'd make such a fool of myself in front of you, Senior Brother... Please, I beg you not to speak of this to anyone."
"Junior Sister Yu, you're overthinking it."
