Yan Qing froze.
Was this for real? Had I actually beaten Yaoshi Yuan to tears? For a moment, he could not decide which was more worth bragging about: slapping Ying Le or making Yaoshi Yuan cry.
But when he saw the sorrow in Yaoshi Yuan's eyes, Yan Qing vaguely guessed what had happened and quickly got off her. Yaoshi Yuan slowly sat up, lowered her head, and stared at the floor, letting warm blood slide down her cheeks.
A torn strip of cloth was held out from beside her.
"Wipe the blood off," Yan Qing said.
Yaoshi Yuan looked at the fairly clean white strip of cloth in her hand, and her vision suddenly blurred. She wiped the moisture from her face and said hoarsely, "Sorry."
"Did venting make you feel a little better?"
When no reply came for a long while, Yan Qing did not mind. He figured she wanted to quietly lick her wounds. Yaoshi Yuan was that kind of person, swallowing all her suffering herself and refusing to expose her weakness even if it meant dying. Even Bunny Heroine had received only her protection; she absolutely refused to rely on anyone.
"Shi Dong isn't afraid of Dragon-Locking Bodhisattva," Yaoshi Yuan suddenly said. "She's afraid of me."
Yan Qing was taken aback. "Why?"
"She's afraid she'll suffer that kind of torture again because of me." Yaoshi Yuan covered her eyes with the white cloth and took a deep breath. "I couldn't protect her."
Last night, Yaoshi Yuan had watched Shi Dong curl up in the corner, trembling all over with terror. Every time she moved one step closer, Shi Dong trembled even harder. In the past, master and servant had been as close as sisters, with nothing they could not discuss, and they often slept together. But now,