She had learned long ago that envy and hatred were cheap currencies in this world, as common as dirt and just as useless if you knew how to step carefully. People who harbored those emotions rarely acted on them directly; they festered, whispered, and waited for a misstep. She let them be. Because to her, their opinions weighed less than dust.
Ling Yu shifted her focus elsewhere as she crouched beside Xian Yu. His delicate features were still pale, though the mana potion she had poured down his throat earlier had restored a measure of vitality. He sat cross-legged now, trying to regulate his breathing, the faint glow of residual magic still clinging to his form. His long lashes trembled as he blinked up at her, sheepish yet stubbornly proud.
"You should rest longer," Ling Yu said. Her voice carried neither warmth nor coldness, only a matter-of-fact firmness. "Your mana circuits are strained. If you push them too soon, you could damage them permanently."
