"Sir, I've brought the health soup."
Su Qinghan approached gracefully, dressed in a floor-length, smoky-white pleated skirt. She wore a moon-white cloak over a silk brocade bodice, her cuffs embroidered with delicate golden butterflies. Her skin was as white as snow, and her aura was like that of a secluded orchid—refined and ethereal.
Jiang Lan merely glanced at her, noticing the slight upward curve of her lips.
"I see you've gotten bolder recently, even daring to tease me," he chuckled, took the health soup from her hands, and downed it in a few gulps.
Su Qinghan smiled gracefully, smoothed her skirt, and sat down beside him, her legs tucked to one side. "I wouldn't dare. I am merely following the City Lord's instructions. He was concerned that you've been overworking yourself and that your health might suffer."
She and Chu Chan did not get along, so whenever Chu Chan was being clingy with Jiang Lan, she stayed as far away as possible.
