In the boudoir.
Xiao Yi had already sat up, leaning against the bed, taking a deep breath.
He was adapting to and accepting the pain brought by the external injuries all over his body.
After a while, Xiao Yi breathed out lightly, glanced at Yiyi beside him, and noticed that Yiyi slightly frowned, a hint of urgency appearing faintly on her face.
"What's wrong?" Xiao Yi asked softly.
Yiyi shook her head, "Nothing."
But it was evident that her slender, delicate hands were grasping the corner of her garment, fiddling with it.
"You think you can fool me?" Xiao Yi chuckled, "Have you forgotten how exceptionally intelligent your young master is?"
Yiyi hesitated for a moment but still shook her head, "Young master is injured; let's wait until you've recovered before discussing this."
Xiao Yi smiled, patted the bedding beside him, and sniffed.
The bedding carried a faint fragrance.
"This is your boudoir, right?" Xiao Yi asked.
Yiyi nodded.
