Qing'er entered the room with a worried face, placed the food box on the table, and gently said, "Miss, please eat something!"
Tang Ling'er, who had locked herself in the room for several days, shook her head blankly, "No, I'm not hungry!"
"Miss, I know you're feeling distressed, but one must eat," Qing'er said softly.
Tang Ling'er smiled faintly, then turned her head and continued writing.
Qing'er stepped forward and saw the densely written papers covered with Xue An's three short poems.
"Miss..." Qing'er's voice choked up when she saw this.
Tang Ling'er remained silent, still quietly writing, her eyes filled with sorrow.
Just then,
noisy footsteps were heard in the courtyard, and then Tang Sheng hurried into the room, his face brimming with excitement.
"Ling'er, look what this is?"
As he spoke, he waved a letter in his hand.
Tang Ling'er stared blankly, "What?"
"This is a letter just sent from the Eastern Palace, personally written by Sir Xue to you!"
