Fifteen minutes later, Anran descended the stairs, her appearance transformed. Her hair was neatly arranged, and her face glowed with a refreshed vitality, signaling her readiness to venture outside.
She wore a white gown that accentuated her graceful figure, though it bore a slight tear near her right leg – a reminder of a recent injury inflicted by Wang Xiao in a moment of conflict.
The wound, now carefully bandaged, didn't seem to hinder her movement, a testament to her resilience and adaptability as a spy.
As Anran stepped into the room, her eyes immediately fell on Wang Xiao, engrossed in dissecting the flowers. "What are you doing?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by the unusual sight.
Wang Xiao didn't look up from his task. "There's something odd about these flowers. They haven't withered at all since yesterday," he explained, his voice laced with concentration.
