Xia Bingling snatched a steaming cup from the tray, taking a long, slow sip to avoid meeting her daughter's eyes. Thankfully, the scalding tea provided a good excuse for the flush creeping up her neck. Across from her, Wang Li took a delicate sip, his eyes lingering on Qingwu for a beat longer than necessary.
"Excellent tea, Qingwu," he declared, his voice dripping with charm. "Just the thing to soothe a weary traveler's throat."
Qingwu's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, a shy smile gracing her lips. Xia Bingling felt a low growl rumble in her chest. Here she was, stewing in a pot of humiliation, and her daughter was blushing like a lovesick fool over the very man who'd… well, let's just say taken advantage of the situation.
"So," Qingwu began, setting the teapot down with a gentle clink, "did you find any lingering effects from Mother's illness?"
