Shen He sat cross-legged on the floor, watching the little female's tear-filled eyes. Her nose twitched, her expression a mixture of wanting to cry but not knowing if she was allowed.
The floor of the bedchamber was cold.
Yu Zhizhi didn't want to lose her composure. She turned to the side, picked up the white mask from the floor with both hands, and put it back on her face.
But the tears wouldn't stop.
Too many emotions burst forth at that moment.
It was the Duke's wedding, the failure of her mission, the journey home that seemed impossibly far away.
Ever since coming to this world, she had never been able to decide anything for herself. The safety and stability she yearned for, perhaps, could only be found in her dreams.
Yu Zhizhi sat on the floor, her hands pressed to her mask, her cheeks soaked underneath.
Shen He was more patient than ever before.
