All along the way back to the Yue family's estate, a grin plastered on Yan Qingsi's face.
Those words were so sweet. They were like sweets that melted in her heart, and the sweetness seeped through her marrows and toward the surface. That sweetness did not seem to have the potential to grow pale.
Supper was waiting for them when they went back, prepared by Mrs. Yue.
Days have passed by blissfully; Yan Qingsi had almost forgotten the dark days in the past.
...
Mrs. Yue helped Yan Qingsi to a full-body treatment at night. After they both lay down on the bed, she smiled to herself. "That little brat must hate me now."
Yan Qingsi wanted to smile, but there was a mask on her face. "It's all right," she said, "He will fall asleep in a bit."
"Qingsi, when are your dramas airing? I've watched the trailers a million times already."
