The Seamstress shot Lan Jue a surprised look. “Is he serious? You think he’s got a shot?”
To this, Lan Jue shrugged. “I have no idea. Not as good as he hopes, I’m sure.” As he spoke, he stabbed a small piece of fruit on a fork. He delivered the piece to Qianlin and pressed it gently to her lips. She opened and accepted the morsel.
All the while the Seamstress watched his tender care. “Even now she’s a lucky girl.”
Lan Jue politely chuckled. “How could this be considered lucky? When she wakes up, then we’ll be blessed.”
But the Seamstress shook her head. “Sometimes it’s dangerous to think on what it is to be ‘really blessed.’ Take yourself, for example. You’re better now than ever before, is this not because of hardships? The Wine Master and the others pile tremendous pressure on your shoulders. Do you think they don’t worry about you, how you’ll hold up?”
