Qing Wu really didn't know how.
She didn't know what to say.
She was still figuring out how to interact with him.
"Emperor, bear with it for a moment, it will stop hurting soon."
"Why don't you pity me anymore?"
He Ying adopted a tone of grievance.
Qing Wu was actually a bit overwhelmed—where was the image of a mighty emperor? Why was he acting like a needy puppy?
She couldn't help thinking of Qi Wuya, a man who could be compared to He Ying. Was he like this in front of Sang Yan? These powerful men really crumbled in front of the women they loved.
Thinking about it made her hands itch.
She somewhat liked this contrast in men.
Her hand, hidden in her sleeve, clenched into a fist as she resisted the urge to get closer.
"Ah Yan, why are you ignoring me?"
He Ying felt that "Sang Yan" was acting strangely.
To avoid revealing anything, Qing Wu had to respond, "Emperor, are you hungry? Shall we have the Imperial Kitchen send over some food?"
