Jiang Ying turned her head and found him standing right beside her.
He looked quite different from his usual self; his pale, cool skin was flushed with a faint redness, shedding that inherent icy detachment. His eyes, typically cold and sharp, resembled a lake shrouded in mist beneath the moonlight, appearing hazy and imbued with a hint of tenderness.
Could the medicinal potency of that black-bone chicken and sea cucumber soup, or the fleeceflower and codonopsis duck soup, really be that strong?
Chapter 123