Warm light spilled over the peach trees. Mo Li's expression faltered at Dan Wulan's words as she gazed at the peach tree before her.
This was the tree Master planted for her?
How could that person find the leisure to plant such a thing? Was there some deeper meaning? Or had he taken notice of this woman's talent?
A few indescribable sentiments unknowingly mingled in her eyes, her jade-like fingers tightly clutching the brocade quilt.
My own strength is still lacking, and this Ninth Uncle seems far too distant for me now.
Not arguing aloud, she bit her lip and took a step back, the bleakness in her heart seemingly deepening further.
Dan Wulan's cool gaze lightly swept over Mo Li. Noticing the quilt in Mo Li's hands, which had almost frozen stiff in the wind, Dan Wulan stepped forward.
Subconsciously, Mo Li retreated another step, her crystalline toes leaving deep footprints in the snow. She softly said, "Disciple understands… Ninth Uncle, please go ahead."
