Fengyu couldn't tell if the moody Xie Xun was genuinely angry.
"Why are you angry?"
"Figure it out yourself!" Xie Xun, his face dark, lay in Third Miss's silken nest to catch up on sleep. Since the ruin of his family, he hadn't had a single good night's rest; both his body and mind had been pushed to their limits.
Qiuxiang and Chunlu had laid thick bedding in the carriage for Fengyu's traveling comfort and, worrying it might be too warm for her, added a thin bamboo mat atop. Xie Xun lay on the mat, his breathing shallow and quiet. A shadow of bluish-dark fatigue lingered under his eyes. Nuanyang mentioned that since Xie Xun arrived in Ningzhou, he had been busy ceaselessly like a spinning top.
